


SPRING

by court_of_arcana



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Falling In Love, Mates, Original Character(s), Rebuilding, Redemption, Romance, The Spring Court (ACoTaR), Velaris (ACoTaR)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:21:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 65,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28258377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/court_of_arcana/pseuds/court_of_arcana
Summary: After the war against Hybern the Spring Court remains in utter shambles. Tamlin is haunted by the ghost of his decisions, unable to move on, when he finds a human girl wandering deep in the forrest where she shouldn’t be.
Relationships: Elain Archeron & Lucien Vanserra, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand, Tamlin (ACoTaR)/Original Character(s), Tamlin (ACoTaR)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 96
Kudos: 92





	1. Refuge

**Author's Note:**

> *In this story Lucien hasn’t seen or spoken to Tamlin since he fled the Spring Court with Feyre.

My feet ached with each step, blisters raw and rubbing along the inside of my boots. The forrest gave me no comfort, animals hiding and watching me—an intruder—as I walked.

I’d walked all night. There was no part of me that cared about the damage I might endure trying to get where I was going. It was funny though, I imagined the night chill would have been what got under my skin and caved me in. Yet, as dawn rose and brought with it a taste of warmth, I concluded nothing was worse than the blisters. Absolutely nothing.

I needed food. Water. Shelter. All three at the same time, preferably. However, the woods offered me nothing. I did not know how to hunt. Nor how to start a fire. If I found water and it was stagnant, I’d likely drink it anyway and fall ill. So I settled for alleviating one of my needs: to sit.

The lumpy bark of a fallen tree was not comfortable beneath me, but it would suffice. I untied my boots and slipped them off, wincing as I did so. My feet had undoubtably seen better days. The blisters were red, angry wounds that hissed as the light breeze touched them. Perhaps I could stuff my shoe with leaves and maybe that would ease some of the friction. It might also give me an infection. I groaned with frustration, disappointed in myself for not thinking ahead. For not grabbing something as important as socks before I fled.

A snap of twigs to my right had me jerking my head towards the sound. At first I saw nothing, a collection of branches and leaves swaying gently. But I could swear something was there. It was more of a feeling than a truth, that it was watching me.

“Come on out and kill me, then.” I taunted to the nothingness behind the leaves. When I headed into the woods I knew my chances of survival were slim enough. All manner of creatures and Fae roamed. With the wall down there was nothing stopping them from parading into human lands. Still, I took my chances. Anything was better than staying where I was.

There was a flicker and suddenly a form took shape. A great beast, much worse than any my imagination could have conjured, stood beyond the branches where I’d heard the noise. It prowled out of hiding towards me, an amalgamation of creatures all designed to hunt and kill. One swipe of it’s yellow claws would rip out my entrails. It’s teeth could likely sever my head from my body. They eyes however, did not match the wolf-like face. There was something almost human about them and it made the thing even more terrifying.

The creature’s steps were slow, sauntering toward it’s next meal, no doubt. My breath caught in my throat and I froze, knowing there was no way I’d outrun it. The best I could hope for would be for it to kill me swiftly.

“Is that why you’re here alone?” The rumbling voice that came from it sent chills down my spine. “Looking for death?”

My mouth gaped, hands clutching the wooden log beneath me. “No.” I responded, hoping the answer might cause it to spare me. “I’m looking for shelter.”

It blinked, taking in the sight of me. My ruined boots and even further ruined feet. “There’s none for miles.”

I’d suspected as much, but the reality of it still made something in my stomach sink. “But there is a place, somewhere out there.” I stood, deciding it would be easier to run without my boots.

The beast circled, taking in my scent. “You plan to wander these woods until you find it?”

“Yes.” I held my ground. “If I carry on north, I’ll hit it eventually.”

The creature’s giant head twisted in question. “Where is it you plan to go?”

“There’s a manor.” I replied, only answering it’s questions until I could put enough distance between us to run. It would catch me, but I had to try. “An abandoned one. I plan to make it my home.”

The sound that left the beast vaguely resembled laughter. “Who told you this?”

Letty had. In her final moments with me. It was only a rumor, but would simply have to do. “It doesn’t matter. Please, just let me go there in peace.” The creature stared, teeth baring in an alarming smile. I added, “I wouldn’t taste good.”

A low rumble came from it’s chest. “I’d be the judge of that.”

Finally I knew, there was no walking out of the forrest alive. At least I wouldn’t die in the house I’d run away from. That was all that mattered. All I could cling to before it pounced and ended me.

The beast stalked closer until it stood before me, fangs glistening. It’s earthen eyes peered deep into mine before it spoke again. “Shall I show you the way?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “You… _what?_ ”

“There are wards around it. Even if you approached, you’d never see it with your human eyes.” The creature pawed at one of my boots, knocking it over. “I’ll even give you a ride, if you like.”

One moment I was facing certain death. The next, the beast was offering to be my chaperone. It left me speechless.

“I won’t force you.” There was a hint of sadness buried in its voice. “But if it’s refuge you seek, I will take you there.”

I weighed my options for a few moments before deciding to go along with the beast. It could have killed me by now. Had ample opportunities. Maybe it just wasn’t hungry yet and planned to keep me around until it was. I was already deep enough in the woods that without food, water, or shelter I’d die anyways. So I went.

I picked up my boots and decided to trek barefoot. The beast eyed my blistered feet but did not comment, simply sauntering off between the trees. I followed, noticing how it kept its pace slow enough to remain by my side. It must have been agonizing considering the creature could clearly bound faster than lightening if it wanted to, yet it kept me company as we walked.

The sounds of the birds and leaves crunching beneath us was all that filled the air for some time. Occasionally the beast would step close enough that it’s soft fur brushed my arm. I could actually feel the heat radiating off it beside me.

An hour passed and while my blisters were no longer rubbing against the inside of my boot, the pad and soles of my feet felt like nails were being rammed into them with each step I took. I winced as I stepped on a particularly sharp branch upon the forrest floor. It pressed into the already tender tissue in such a way that sent a hint of moisture to my eyes.

The beast paused, turning to look at me. “My offer still stands.”

“To…ride you?” My eyes took in the giant torso and muscled legs that probably wouldn’t even notice if I climbed atop.

An air of mirth flashed over the creature’s eyes and was gone in an instant. “Yes.”

I stared down at my blackened feet knowing I couldn’t take another step anyway. “Alright, fine. Just don’t drop me.”

Its chest rumbled in response before lowering a back leg enough that I could climb up. The warmth of the beast seeped through the fabric of my pants and palms as I placed them on either side of its spine. It rose back to full height and I let out a small squeak as I thought I might fall off.

“Hold on to my mane,” it said. I obeyed, grabbing two fistfuls of the thick golden hair that cascaded around its neck. “And I wouldn’t sit upright if I were you.”

I assumed that was because I might get whipped in the face by oncoming branches, but as the creature started to take off I quickly understood it was because the force of wind would send me flying.

The beast bounded, powerful legs pulling us through the forrest. I leaned down, pressing as flush as I could to it and hugged with every part of me in an effort not to slip. With the speed at which I was being carried, one wrong move and I’d be splattered against a tree. It was a graceful creature though, maneuvering as if these woods belonged to it.

What would have taken me a day to trek at the speed I was going, took less than an hour. I could feel the beast’s heartbeat thundering away within it as we came to a slow before the edge of the trees.

The creature had not lied. It brought us to the manor.

It was similar to what I imagined. What I dreamed. In those frantic moments when I planned my escape, I saw this place. The alabaster statues and ivory walls covered in greedy vines. However, it was also different than I pictured. Even though I knew the place was abandoned, my imagination painted it differently. Showed sparkling water pouring from the fountains. Bright, colorful roses blooming in aesthetic rows. Bushes trimmed to the shapes of animals. Birds merrily dancing between the trees.

That was not reality. It stood desolate; the shell of a home. There hadn’t been warmth inside for years, perhaps. Some of the windows were shattered, the paint chipped. Vines crawled along it not in an effort to compliment, but to strangle.

“Not what you expected?” The beast asked as it lowered to allow me to slide off.

My feet ached where they hit the grass, but were thankful for the brief reprieve. “It’s…it’ll do.”

I decided not to question as it followed me up the battered staircase to the front door. It was unlocked—though I could have easily climbed through one of the broken windows to get inside anyway. I beheld the checkered floor and frowned mildly. The place was a _mess_. Whoever lived there previously must have also hosted a war within in it. All the furniture was in pieces, though at least swept to the sides of the hallway to make a small path. A giant marble table in the middle of the entryway had a large crack right down the middle of it. I curiously carried on, eyes passing over a sitting room and dining room in much of the same condition. There were small corners where someone could eat or sit if they chose to, but overall it was a disaster. It’d take many, many hours to clean it up and make the place livable.

I heard the beast follow me inside and wondered if it was finally ready to make me its dinner. I turned on my swollen heels and my breath caught when I was met with not a beast, but a man.

Some of the beastly features remained, the golden cascading hair and forrest green eyes. The muscle, as well. But other than that it was simply a man. Or rather, a High Fae, judging by the pointed tips of his ears and features that were just a little _too_ perfect.

He stood at least a foot taller than me, though his shoulders were hunched forward slightly within his loose white tunic.

I swallowed my surprise, taking only a small step backward.

He held open his hands at the mess of a foyer, no hint of a smile upon his features.

“Welcome to my home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments make my entire day! I hope you enjoy this story <3


	2. Debris

“Your…home.” I repeated, questioning how anyone could live in such condition. I took in every speck of dust and dirt and broken piece of…everything.

“It was abandoned by everyone in my Court, so in some ways you were right.”

“ _Your_ Court?” The pieces clicked together instantly. “You’re a _High Lord_?”

His expression didn’t change, clearly unimpressed with himself.

“You’re…a High Lord and you live like this?” I gestured to the mess. “What happened?”

He released a pained sigh. “Perhaps a story for another time.”

I eyed him, trying to understand merely from context but to no avail.

The High Lord straightened up slightly. “I’ll go fetch us something to eat. It shouldn’t take long. Make yourself…” _Comfortable_ was the word that died upon his lips. He merely stalked away, shifting back into his beast form before stepping out into the sun.

Despite all the thoughts that should have been swarming my mind, the one that stood out was, _I’ve just ridden a High Lord through the forrest_.

Until the beast returned I snooped about the various rooms on the ground level, pleased to find a giant library and art gallery, then quickly displeased at the sore state of them. I went back to the dining room, deciding to clear away some of the mess cluttered there. If he was bringing food, there’d need to be enough space for two. So I scooted bits of broken wood and shattered picture frames off the edge of the table, plucking a second chair from under a pile of rubbish and dusting it off.

The High Lord returned not long after I’d made the space just barely worthy of a meal. I heard his footsteps enter, long claws clicking against the floor. He didn’t come straight to the dining room though, heading instead for the kitchen. I waited patiently in my seat at the table.

He finally entered carrying two large bowls filled with a brown stew that sent tendrils of steam up into the air. He set one before me, blinking a few times at the space I’d cleared for us to eat. I inhaled deep, my mouth watering at the aromas that greeted my nose. Fresh herbs, vegetables, meat, and rice. It looked heavenly.

“Thank you,” I said before noticing the splash of blood across his shirt as he sat. “What happened?”

He knew what I referred to without looking, dipping a spoon into the hearty stew. “It needed meat.”

I stared as he brought a spoonful to his lips and blew a moment before inhaling it. “And what meat did you catch?”

“Deer.” As simple as that.

I imagined how he might have attacked the poor animal, ripping it’s neck swiftly between his claws. Claws that were retracted now, replaced by sturdy hands.

I dug in. It tasted better than it smelled, if that was even possible. I couldn’t help the moan that escaped me, I hadn’t had a meal like that in…perhaps ever.

His eyes flicked to me. “You like it?”

I was deep in thought, admiring ever flavor. Every ounce of spice that hit my tongue. “I love it.”

The barest hint of a smile touched his lips before he took another bite.

We ate in silence, finishing our bowls at the same time. When I was done, I leaned back in the chair and observed the High Lord. “How long can I stay?”

He stared into the empty bowl, setting down his spoon. “As long as you want.” I felt some relief at that. He added, “As long as you can stand it.”

I sensed there was something else to the comment but decided not to press it. “Well, that’s good news. Though I’m sure it’ll be you that kicks me out before long.” I stood and grabbed his bowl, placing it atop my own before bringing them both to the kitchen. He was halfway through telling me I didn’t need to when I waved him off with a hand. If he made the meal, I would do the dishes. It was only fair.

I returned to the dining room to find him there, zoned out as he stared at a corner of the table. “That was delicious. Thank you.”

He left his reverie and looked up with a modest nod.

“Now, there’s quite a lot of work to be done.” I placed my hands upon my hips. “But I think with the both of us, it’s not impossible.”

His perfectly sculpted brow raised in question.

I motioned to the debris all around. “You expect me to clean this whole place by myself? Come on, now. What else are all those muscles good for?”

A flicker of light came into his eyes.

“We’ll start in the foyer.” I decided, crossing my arms as I surveyed the damage.

He stared at me for a long moment before finally standing, the chair scraping loud behind him. “Okay.”

And so it began. The bulk of the work was simply dragging all the broken items out of the house and onto the veranda that overlooked the garden. I left the bulky items to him, busying myself with the smaller bits, broken lamps and vases. When we’d finished there, we moved onto the dining room. He continued to haul things away while I started on the actual cleaning. I’d found a broom and a dustpan, sweeping up the dust bunnies and clumps of dirt.

We worked in silence mostly, focused on the task at hand. Perhaps a couple times I allowed myself a glance at him as he passed, beads of sweat rolling down his sunkissed neck. He’d tied his hair up, but a few strands clung to his cheek as he bent to lift a whole half of a couch.

The only breaks we took were to enjoy another bowl of stew as the sun fell, and the one I took in the infirmary to tend to my feet. I cleaned and wrapped them as well as put some foreign ointment on that immediately eased the pain. It was enough to allow me to keep working for another couple hours after dinner.

Then, exhaustion hit like a tidal wave. The High Lord saw it on my face and wiped sweat from his brow. “Enough for one day?”

“Enough.” I agreed. I followed him up the stairs and noticed how his body language tensed when we approached the master bedroom.

“The other rooms are…unusable at the moment.” He stood before the doorway as if not sure if he should enter his own bedroom or not. I watched his eyes dart around while he contemplated.

“At least the bed is big.” I commented.

“I’ll sleep on the couch downstairs.” He announced.

From the singular available couch I saw in the library, he’d have to be a contortionist to find any comfort there. I shook my head and stepped inside. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

He remained in the doorway. “…You’re sure?”

“Yeah, just keep your claws to yourself, alright?” I teased, becoming aware of how absolutely filthy I was. “Is there somewhere I can bathe?”

“Yes,” He signaled to the adjoining bathroom. I gave a smile in thanks before closing the door behind myself.

Under the warm water I let out a deep sigh of relief. I had made it. I’d found the shelter I was searching for and while I expected to make the mansion my home on my own, part of me was relieved to have met the High Lord. He was rather reserved, but kind enough. He didn’t leave me to die in the forrest. There was great pleasure to be had in that thought alone.

At some point during my shower I heard the door creak open. I froze, staring at the curtain as footsteps approached and then retreated, the door creaking once more. I poked my head out to see a fresh pair of clothes upon the sink. I grinned at the golden water spigot as I let it douse my face.

I dried off and repressed a laugh as I tightened the drawstring pants around my waist. They were much too big for me, bunching up in a ridiculous manner and I practically swam in the long sleeve shirt he’d given me to wear. But I was grateful nonetheless to be clean and in fresh clothes.

The High Lord sat at the edge of the bed when I returned, clearly lost in thought again. He took in the sight of me in his clothes and his mouth opened as if to say something. No words came and he simply stepped into the bathroom to turn the water back on for a shower of his own.

I was tucked into my side, eyes drifting closed when he slipped into the bed beside me. With the sheer size of him, suddenly it was not as spacious as I thought. I couldn’t complain though, I was comfortable and his scent was undeniably pleasant.

The lights were off and only the moonlight illuminated his features where he lay, staring up at the ceiling.

“What’s your name?” I asked quietly.

“Tamlin.” He replied. “Yours?”

“Evelyn. But you can call me Eve if you want.”

He drew in a deep breath. “Sleep well, Eve.”

And so I did.


	3. Hospitality

I awoke to the smell of bacon wafting up the stairs.

When I reached the kitchen Tamlin was there, a hand-towel slung over his shoulder as he cooked. I thought to ask why he didn’t have servants to do this sort of thing if he was the High Lord, but remembered the pained look in his eye when he’d said everyone abandoned him. I desperately wanted to know the story, deciding I’d wait for the right moment to ask.

“Good morning,” I called.

He glanced over his shoulder with a polite smile. “Good morning.”

“It smells delicious.” I ignored that the upper half of the poor beast was lying upon the counter against the far wall, no life in its eyes.

“It’ll be ready in a few minutes.” He announced.

I made my way to the dining room, silently impressed with all that we’d accomplished the previous day. There was still much to do, but we at least made a dent.

He brought in two plates full of fresh eggs with orange glistening yolks, crispy toast, and thick strips of pork. We dug in and only paused to breathe when the plates were wiped clean of any yolk.

“If you keep cooking for me like this, I’ll never leave.” I commented.

I expected to garner a laugh or a smile—as it was a compliment—but instead only sadness burdened his features. Like he’d bitten into something awful. I didn’t realize what I’d said until it was too late.

“Why…why did everyone leave, Tamlin?” I decided now was as good a time as any.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He set his fork down and grabbed both our plates, refusing to meet my gaze.

And that was that.

We immediately got back into cleaning. The hours passed and so did we within the halls, lugging mountains of broken bits from one place to another. It was tedious and tiresome, yet I rather enjoyed having something to do. The feeling when a room was finished, livable again, was reward enough in itself.

As we made our way into the sitting room—placing books back on the shelf from where they were strewn—I watched him work and had to wonder… “How come you haven’t done this yet?”

He gave me a questioning look.

“How come it took me coming here to get you to clean this place?”

Tamlin dropped the basket he was about to haul away, looking at the half-cleaned mess around us. “Because I liked looking at the scars. The reminder of what’s been done. It makes me angry every time I look at it and I like how it feels.”

I breathed quietly, watching the darkness as it pooled around him. I didn’t know this High Lord well or even close to well. I knew that he offered me his home, his food, his safe passage through the forrest. But it became very clear to me that I knew nothing of the shadows that plagued him. That kept his shoulders pulled forward instead of back and proud. I had no idea what he’d endured to live in a state of squalor and _enjoy_ it because it was like picking at an un-healing scab. I was well on my way to fixing this mansion. But the High Lord before me…there was no telling what it would take to fix him.

He picked back up the basket and brought it to the veranda.  
  


+

  
Dinner was a quiet affair, albeit delicious. Whatever I’d said to him earlier seemed to linger in his mind like a raincloud that wouldn’t lift. I wished there was something I could say to ease it, but I decided to let him sort it out.

After washing the filth from ourselves, we climbed into the bed leaden with exhaustion. We’d cleaned the entire ground floor, save for the library.

Sleep came for me the moment my head hit the pillow, but I was yanked from it hours later.

I didn’t understand what was happening at first, my mind a foggy blur. There was a terrific amount of motion in the bed. Tamlin was beside me, thrashing wildly. I saw the gleam of his claws in the moonlight, ripping the bedding around him to shreds. He was growling and groaning, trying to escape whatever terror reigned in his mind. Bits of the sheet and feathers flew about in the wake of his sharp claws. I quickly rolled off the bed and away from him, out of the line of his vicious swipes.

“Tamlin!” I said, trembling. No response. “ _Tamlin!_ ”

Finally his eyes shot open and the thrashing stopped, feathers floating gently back onto the bed. He looked down at himself—his shirt ripped to smithereens—and at his hands where the claws poked through like scythes. He turned to me and they retracted faster than I could blink.

He sat up, terror written all over his face. “Are you hurt?”

“No. Just…shaken up.” I tried to will my body to stop trembling.

The agony that swept his beautiful features was more horrifying than what I’d woken up to. He moved to sit at the edge of the bed with his head in his hands, back facing me. I watched him for a moment, unsure of what to do.

All I knew was that _he_ was hurt. Whatever was vivid and terrible enough to cause him to have that sort of nightmare…I could almost understand why he didn’t want to tell me.

I crawled over the damaged bed behind him, hesitating before placing a gentle hand upon his back. The muscle of his shoulder bulged beneath the damp shirt that stuck to him. When he didn’t flinch or pull away I started to rub in slow circles, wanting to wipe the pain and hurt away.

Then came his voice, barely a whisper in the night. “I don’t think you should stay here.”

I froze, my palm still against his back. I pulled it away, clutching it to my chest as the words sank in.

He didn’t want me there.

Not in the bed, not in the mansion. It was all generous hospitality, but it had run out.

So I crawled off the bed and headed for the stairs, ignoring the tightness in my throat. My feet carried me to the library. I’d sleep on the couch there until sunrise. Then, I would be gone.

Where I’d go next, I didn’t know. But I’d figure it out.

I curled up on the hard cushion, clutching my body close to itself for warmth. It was noticeably colder downstairs, the broken window letting night air in.

I’d just finally drifted off to sleep when someone said my name.

I peeled my eyes open to see Tamlin’s emerald ones before me where he knelt on the ground.

“I’m sorry.” He said softly, shaking his head. “I didn’t mean it. Well, I did, but…I don’t want you to go.” I blinked, waiting for him to process what he wanted to say next. His face was so close to mine I could smell the mint upon his breath. “I was in love with a human once. And…I hurt her. Not on purpose, but that doesn’t matter. It happened. And I can’t erase the guilt it gives me.” Such sorrow. Such pain in his beautiful eyes. “The thought of hurting someone else, even by accident, makes me…” He didn’t need to finish the sentence. I understood. “I’ll tell you everything. Tomorrow. I promise.”

“Deal.” I said with a small smile. Perhaps I’d tell him my story as well.

“Will you come back to bed?” He asked.

I gave a nod, much preferring that bed to the one I was currently curled up on. As I went to sit up Tamlin beat me to it, sliding an arm around my back and one under my knees, lifting me up with ease. I could smell the hint of sweat lingering on him, his chest warm where I pressed into it. He carried me all the way up the stairs and laid me down upon my side of the bed gently. I noticed the sheets were replaced, all signs of his violent nightmare taken care of. The High Lord crawled into bed with his back facing me. This time I didn’t hesitate before I reached out to touch him. It was a simple caress of forgiveness. An acceptance of his apology. I felt him relax under it before I pulled my hand back and fell asleep.

+

Over breakfast, the High Lord finally told me his story.

It began with how he got his title: begrudgingly. How all of Prythian fell under a monstrous woman’s rule who cursed his court. He told me of a human girl, Feyre, who became the key to their breaking the curse. How he hadn’t expected to, but he’d fallen deep in love with her. How she went to Under the Mountain for him. Fought for him until her dying breath, before being reborn as High Fae. Then he carefully explained how things were never the same after. How he felt he needed to protect her, shelter her from the other High Lords who would undoubtably kill her for the power she took from them. But she was swept away by the High Lord of the Night Court on a bargain they’d made Under the Mountain. There was nothing Tamlin could do. Try as he did to make her happy, to keep her safe, all it did was stifle her. Cause her to cave in. He took it too far when she insisted on following him, locking her in the manor. She was then taken away for good.

Tamlin knew intimately of the High Lord Rhysand’s powers to melt minds. He could only assume he’d used this against Feyre to turn her against him, for all he got from his wife-to-be after that was a letter with three measly sentences on it.

I stopped him before he could continue on with the story. “Wait. That was it? That’s all she said to you?”

He nodded, eyes dark with the memories that haunted him. “I assumed Rhysand had gotten into her mind. Since I couldn’t speak with her face to face there was no way to know for sure. I had to get her out of his court, out of his control. So I used the only arsenal available to me.”

He proceeded to explain how he decided to work with Hybern in exchange for rescuing Feyre. It was a risky bargain, but he knew Hybern would be invading his lands soon anyway. It was better to keep the enemy close, work beside him and learn what he could so that when the time came to strike he would have an upper hand. But when they finally lured Feyre to Hybern’s castle, things took a dark turn. Hybern upheld his end of the bargain but took many liberties of his own, using the cauldron to turn her sisters into High Fae. Trapping Rhysand and his court. He told me how Feyre used her powers to drop the wards on the castle, but pretended that it was Rhysand’s mind spell on her breaking. How she looked at Tamlin with such fear as she ‘realized’ what he’d done to her. The bitterness in Tamlin’s voice as he explained sent bile up to my throat. The ruse worked. He believed her, and while the Night Court went free with her sisters, Tamlin brought Feyre back to Spring. Where she belonged. With him.

Or so he thought.

Something wasn’t right with her, Tamlin could feel it. She refused him in bed. Her warm stares were laden with something frozen. Tamlin thought it was just her readjusting after being…forced to be with Rhysand. But little did he know she was plotting against him, doing everything in her power to display Tamlin’s worst qualities to his court, flirting with his right-hand Lucien to get a rise out of him, openly questioning his rule, laying traps to force Tamlin’s hand against his sentinels. This was happening whilst Hybern was in the Spring Court and Tamlin was trying to gather information from him. Right under his nose his court was being torn apart from within. All because Feyre wanted to escape back to the Night Court to be with her _mate._

My jaw wouldn’t close. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. The extent of the betrayal was absolutely unfathomable to me. I could hear the rage in his voice though he tried to temper it, tried to give me as objective a view of the scenario as possible. But it was hard on him. The wounds were still fresh. Festering, even.

He told me of how she fled, taking Lucien with her. The meeting he had to endure for the sake of Prythian, watching her and the High Lord of the Night Court taunt him, even as he laid out Hybern’s plans. How he’d seen Feyre sneak into Hybern’s camp to rescue her sister and saved her. How when the war came and Rhysand died, Tamlin gave a drop of his own self to bring him back. All for Feyre.

He’d been speaking down to the crumbs of his breakfast, finally looking up to see the fresh mist in my eyes. I hadn’t known him for long, only a few days, but I knew no one should have to endure what he did. He clearly played a role in it, made terrible mistakes himself. But no one should experience that kind of disloyalty. I wanted to reach for his hand and decided against it.

“This Lucien.” I said. “I’d like to meet him. I have a few words for him.” The corner of Tamlin’s mouth curled in a sad smile. “Well, thank you. For telling me all of that. It makes more…sense. I knew it was a girl, but not to what extent.”

“You knew?”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course. Only a woman could make a man act this insane.” I gestured to the mansion.

He laughed, the sound deep and hearty.

“Speaking of,” I rose to my feet and took his plate. “We still have _much_ work to do.”

Something flashed in his eyes as he smiled. The wounds were still painfully present, but it might have been hope that I saw there.


	4. Visitor

We dragged and moved and swept and wiped and sneezed and sweat and panted until dinner.

Tamlin served us a piping hot soup. As we blew on our spoons to cool it down, he asked. “And what’s your story?”

I gave a humorless laugh. “Not nearly as dramatic as yours.”

He gave a shrug as if to say _touché_.

“It’s actually terribly boring in comparison. My father died when I was young. After my mother passed away three years ago I was sent to live with my aunt. She’s a wicked witch and Gregory—“ I hated the taste of his name in my mouth. “He’s…worse. _Much_ worse.” The bruises on my arms had faded by then, but the memory of them hadn’t. “So I ran away.”

Tamlin surveyed me intently, waiting for me to say more. I didn’t want to, but with all that he’d told me earlier I felt I owed it to him.

“He would…touch me. Hurt me. And my aunt would do nothing about it. She pretended I was a liar so she wouldn’t have to face what a monster she was married to. The housekeeper, Letty, helped me escape. She gave me her clothes and I slipped out in broad daylight. I don’t know what happened to her, if she’s safe. She told me there was an abandoned mansion, that if I headed north through the woods I’d reach it eventually.”

The High Lord’s expression was soft as he regarded me. “I’m glad you left…and I’m sorry you went through that.”

I nodded, contemplating. “You know, it’s funny, I saw this place in my dreams. The manor.” I could tell wheels were turning in his head. “It looked much different though.” I sighed, glancing at the room we’d cleaned so thoroughly.

“How so?” He asked, leaning closer without realizing it.

“It was…cleaner.” I winked. “Pristine, actually. Warm and welcoming. Busy. Alive.”

He frowned. “It used to be.”

“And will be again.” I stood, brushing his arm as I did so. He followed me upstairs where we got back to work cleaning the upper bedrooms.

+

By the following afternoon we’d cleared out every room in the mansion. The veranda was a towering mountain of broken bits. It spilled over the stairs and down into the garden below. We stood together and stared at the sheer volume of it.

Tamlin raised his fingers and snapped, the entire mass simply evaporating into thin air. My jaw dropped, eyes blinking at the empty veranda before me. All of it was gone.

I turned to him, still in shock. He met my gaze. “Perks of being a High Lord.”

I squinted. “You were able to do that _the whole time???_ ”

“You wanted to put my muscles to good use.” He shrugged.

But behind his words I sensed the truth: he wanted to do it. Wanted to pick up the mess with his bare hands. Feel the weight of it. I suspected it was probably as cathartic for him as it was to destroy it all in the first place.

“There’s more to do, but I think we deserve a break.” I said, looking out at the rolling green hills beyond the trees. “How about a walk?”

Tamlin did his best to suppress a smile, leading me off into the trees.

+

We wandered through the forrest for who knew how long, sharing small stories—ones that didn’t rip open old wounds. We reached the top of a hill and I took a seat upon the grass. He sat beside me, eyes trained on the distance.

“What are you thinking about?” I asked curiously.

“Mmm.” I watched the breeze tousle his golden hair in the setting sun. “Nothing in particular.”

“Liar.” I grinned, laying back and deciding not to push it. “Spring is lovely. The weather, the air…” I ran my hands through the soft grass. “I could lie here all day.”

Tamlin laid down beside me, the scent of earth wafting towards me as he did so. I breathed it in, finding it gave me comfort. A great beast he might have been, but I came to see the softness in him. He _was_ spring.

His eyes were closed, facial features relaxed as his chest rose and fell.

“Thank you.” I said.

One eye peeked open towards me. “For?”

“Letting me into your home.”

The eye closed. “Thank you for staying.”

When no one else would.   
  


+

When it was time for bed we walked together up the stairs and he paused. “I imagine you’ll want your own room now?”

We _had_ cleaned out the guest bedrooms. There was fresh bedding in each.

“Oh.” It was the more appropriate thing to do. To sleep in my own room. Give him his privacy. Yet a part of me didn’t want to. It was comforting, having a warm body next to mine as I slept. The occasional waft of air against my forehead as he breathed deep in slumber. We never touched, but I didn’t mind the closeness. “Right, I probably should.” That wasn’t the response I wanted to give. I meant to say ‘yes of course’, but my heart betrayed me.

Still, I headed for the spare bedroom in the corner and turned over my shoulder to say goodnight before closing the door.

In the wooden wardrobe was a collection of clean clothes. Soft shirts, pants, sweaters, and tucked in the back were a few lavish dresses. I had to wonder if they belonged to someone else. Regardless, I grabbed a pair of sleeping clothes and bathed before settling into the bed. It was undoubtably cold without the High Lord in it. Not unbearable. But noticeable.

It took longer than usual for me to fall asleep, staring out at the glass window where stars shone beyond it.

+

With the mansion finally clean, it was time to begin repairs. I was re-painting a swirl of flowers upon the lip of a fountain outside the front door when the sound of footsteps approached on the walkway. Tamlin had come back from hunting some minutes before, so I knew it wasn’t him, likely busy in the kitchen with whatever he’d caught.

I turned around and the paintbrush dropped to my side, knowing instantly who the intruder was.

Fitted black clothing clutched his tall form, but that was not the giveaway. What made it clear was the darkness that rippled around him. As if he was made from it. Forged in a dark pit of it. He was handsome, undeniably so, but the cockiness that exuded as he sauntered towards me with hands in his pockets made him less so.

“Hello there.” He spoke in a voice like honey, bright teeth shining in the afternoon sun. “Who might you be?”

Before I could answer, quicker than the strike of a cobra, I felt a wave of night begin to seep into my mind. It was subtle, almost a caress, and if I hadn’t known any better I might have thought it was simply a dark cloud overhead; a shadow passing by me. But before the black talons could ease their way in I decided to fight. I wouldn’t let him in if it was the last thing I did. I summoned vines. Thick, thorny and vicious. I wove them together into an impenetrable wall so dense even the High Lord of the Night Court could not rip through them. The darkness reluctantly retreated from my mind.

Rhysand’s sharp brow quirked in amusement. “So he warned you about me, then.”

I did not return his smile, watching him suspiciously. Tamlin winnowed a heartbeat later, landing to my right.

“What do you want.” It was more of an order than a question, his voice a low snarl.

The High Lord of the Night Court’s eyes simply dropped to the paint brush in my hand. “You really _do_ have a type, Tamlin.”

He growled in response. I had to wonder if he might launch into his beast form and rip out the High Lord’s eyes.

I decided to echo Tamlin’s question. “What do you want?”

Rhysand seemed surprised that I bothered to intervene, but turned his attention to Tamlin. “We discussed needing to set up guards along the border. Considering I was able to winnow here I think it’s safe to assume you’ve yet to piece back together your court. I’m sending my guards.”  
  
There was burning fire behind Tamlin’s emerald eyes. “I don’t need your barbarians on my lands.”

“My _barbarians_ saved our lives in the war if you recall.” Rhysand inspected something on his cuticle. “And how did she end up here I wonder?”

I kept my lips shut tight.

“Nice touch on the vines, by the way. Very… _Spring._ ” Tamlin’s brow twitched, not knowing what Rhysand was referred to. This seemed to pique the Night Court Lord’s interest, but he changed the subject. “They’ll be here in two weeks. I simply came by to let you know so you could prepare.”

“You could have sent word.” Tamlin’s voice rumbled.

“I wanted to see how you were doing.” Rhysand purred and I knew his words were not genuine. “Besides, I wouldn’t have met your lovely new friend.”

Tamlin bristled, clearly thinking about attacking him, but simply rolled his shoulders back. He checked himself, deciding it wasn’t worth it. “Would you like to take her away to the Night Court as well?”

“I may have had my Mate brought to my court, but she stayed on her own free will.”

There was such smugness in his speech I found myself wanting to growl at him.

He continued. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten who’s fault that was.”

And at that jab, the low blow, I snapped. “Do you take pleasure in being so patronizing?”

Rhysand beamed. “It’s one of my specialties.”

“I don’t need your Illyrians at the border.” Tamlin hissed.

“Yes, you do.” Rhysand countered. “Remnants of Hybern’s supporters have dispersed, some slipping through the forrest into human lands to wreak what sort of havoc I can only imagine. You cannot patrol it properly. So I will.” His word was final. Dark violet eyes then swiveled to me. “If he explodes on you, just know that you’re welcome in the Night Court.”

And as Tamlin erupted into his beast form, charging, the High Lord winnowed away in a gust of darkness. Tamlin’s claws swiped through the air and he roared. Loud. Guttural. The sound reverberated throughout the trees, echoing up into the mountains.

Huffing, the beast scraped at the gravel where Rhysand had stood.

“Tam—“

He bounded towards the trees.

The High Lord of Spring didn’t return for hours and when he did there was a large, dead elk in his jaws. It dripped blood all through the foyer and into the kitchen. I’d clean it later I decided, finding it more important to follow him.

He dumped the lifeless animal on a preparation table against the far wall, muscles rippling beneath his shirt once he’d transformed back into his Fae form.

“Feel better?” I asked from the doorway.

Tamlin turned to face me, sweat at his brow. “No.”

“We need to rebuild your court.”

He froze, not anticipating I would say such a thing. Then the defeat mixed with anger swept in. “It’s not that simple.”

“I don’t care.” I folded my arms. “If you don’t want the High Lord of the Night Court stepping over you, you have to do something.”

A low snarl formed at the back of Tamlin’s throat.

“Regardless of what you want, _I_ don’t want him stepping over you. He’s a pig.” Tamlin repressed a tiny smile. “And I don’t like the way he spoke to you. So…entitled. He may have won the girl, but there’s no reason for him to act like such a prick about it.”

Tamlin leaned upon the kitchen island. “Keep talking like that and I just might kiss you.”

I grinned wickedly and debated continuing my verbal slaughter of High Lord Rhysand. “The best revenge you could serve would be to rebuild. Stronger than before.”

He sighed, head bowing.

“Where are they? Your court?”

“Scattered in the wind. Some went to other courts, some are in the village but refuse my rule.”

“We’ll get them back, then.” I decided. “You’ll march right into the village and apologize.”

“Apologize?” His brow shot up at the lunacy of my suggestion.

“Yes. You’re going to tell them you were in the wrong. That you made mistakes. That you learned from them. You want them to come back and you want to start over. Not pretending that nothing happened, but just…start again.”

Tamlin’s eyes smoldered at me from across the table. I almost wasn’t sure if he wanted to pounce on me out of rage or desire. The line was blurred.

“I’ll go with you.” I offered. “Hold your hand if need be.”

He seemed to think about it for a long moment. “Rhysand said ‘nice touch on the vines.’ Do you know what he was talking about?”

Ahh, that. “When he arrived he tried to get into my mind like you said he might. So I simply put up a wall of thorny vines so thick he couldn’t get in.”

Desire. It was desire in his eyes.

I was fairly sure if there wasn’t a table between us he _would_ have kissed me. And I would have enjoyed it. The thought lit a flame somewhere inside me, sending warmth up to my cheeks. I wondered if he could tell.

“I’ll think about it.” He said finally, grabbing a knife to begin skinning the animal he’d hunted.

I imagined that was as much as I’d be getting out of him for the time being so I let it be. “Would you…like any help with that?” He turned to me with the knife in his hand, dripping with fresh blood. I started to slowly back out of the kitchen. “You know what, actually, looks like you’ve got it covered. I’m going to go…read.”

He let out a laugh mixed with a snarl as I turned and headed for the sitting room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I personally just love the idea of how Rhysand might be perceived by someone that isn't Feyre. How his speech and mannerisms are endlessly attractive to Feyre, his mate, but to another they might come off as arrogant and unpleasant. Love you tho, Rhys. Anyway, I had a lot of fun with this chapter. I hope you are enjoying the ride so far. <3


	5. Conditions

The following morning I came down to breakfast wearing one of the dresses I’d found in the wardrobe. It wasn’t over the top, a simply navy blue piece that hung loose and swirled around my knees as I walked. Perfect for the weather.

Tamlin’s eyes went wide when I entered the dining room, sweeping over my form. I couldn’t tell if he was pleased or not.

“Bit your tongue?” I asked, taking my usual seat.

He shook his head. “No, it’s just…nothing.”

“Don’t ‘it’s nothing’ me.” I shoved a large slice of bacon into my mouth. “Speak your mind, High Lord.”

He didn’t want to, but let it out anyway. “I haven’t seen that dress in a while, that’s all.”

“Ah.” I nodded. “Do I look like her?”

Tamlin choked slightly, downing a few gulps of water from his goblet. “Not…I don’t think so. It’s really just the dress.”

“Would you like me to change?”

“No.” He met my gaze. “You look lovely.”

“Thank you.” I brought another piece of bacon to my lips. “You on the other hand…”

He looked down at the casual tunic and pants he wore most frequently. “You object?”

“Only today. I hope you have something a tad more… _High Lord_ in your closet?”

“Why?” He asked suspiciously.

“Because we’re going to the village.”

Every ounce of him wanted to disagree. To rage and argue. To scream and cry and protect whatever dignity he had left. But instead, after a handful of tense minutes, he conceded. “Alright.”

The fact that he agreed, despite the raging war inside that told him not to, it filled me with something akin to euphoria. It was no small step. It was huge. Gargantuan, even. Without thinking about it, I leaned over and placed a kiss on his cheek. I simply couldn’t help it. I needed him to know how proud I was.

I wasn’t sure if High Fae could blush, but I could have sworn a tinge of rose reached his cheek where I’d kissed. He spoke to fill the silence. “When are we leaving?”

“As soon as I finish this breakfast.” I announced, gobbling up one of the eggs on my plate.

+

The village was bustling. There was evidence that a war had once come through, half of the buildings patched up with mismatched brick and wood. Carts and food stalls lined the cobblestone streets. Clothing hung from string tied between the close-knit buildings. Chickens stepped in our path and clucked loudly as we veered to avoid them. Passersby undoubtably recognized their High Lord, but instead of nodding out of respect they simply glowered. Tamlin kept his vision forward, doing his best to ignore it. I couldn’t imagine how it must have felt. To have your people hold such disdain for you. I wanted to yell at them, but that wouldn’t fix anything.

What might fix it, was the small red house with a lopsided number three on the door. An older woman answered the door when Tamlin knocked. “Oh. High Lord.” Her features fell. “How…can I help you.”

“Hart. Is he here?”

“He…” She looked over her shoulder as she tried to buy time to come up with a decent lie. “He doesn’t live here anymore. I’m sorry—“

“Who is it?” A male voice called as it stomped down the stairs. Once he reached the landing he peered through the door and grimaced. “Oh.”

“I want to have a word.” Tamlin said, the hint of a growl creeping into his voice. I pinched his wrist in reminder that this meeting was not the time to settle old scores.

Hart realized he had nowhere to hide and released a sigh. “Alright.”

We were let into the house and followed Tamlin’s old sentinel to a kitchen table at the back of the place. “You could have sent a letter, Tamlin.”

“Would you have answered?” He countered.

Hart took a deep breath. “What is it you want?”

“I want…” The High Lord’s nostrils flared. I nudged his knee under the table. “I want to apologize.” Hart looked like he might have seen a ghost. “I…made some mistakes. Poor judgment calls. I never should have treated you how I did. You didn’t deserve it. None of you did.”

Hart frowned. “No. We didn’t. Not after all we went through for you. Not after what you did to Feyre.”

Tamlin twitched, fighting the emotions that threatened to spill over the edge. I could tell he was a hair away from breaking. One more word and he might…as Rhysand elegantly put it…explode. So I intervened. “An apology won’t change the past. There’s no excuse for his behavior.” I sounded like a mother apologizing on behalf of her child. “But this court needs you. Tamlin needs you.”

Hart was not impressed. “And who are you?”

“I’m…” A question we had not rehearsed.

“She’s my advisor.” Tamlin said without any hesitation.

Hart snorted. “And what about Lucien? Isn’t he a member of the Night Court now?”

Deep, deep rage burned in Tamlin’s eyes. Feyre was a touchy subject. Lucien was equally as tender.

“Think it over.” I stood, knowing this conversation was not moving in our favor. “Please.”

“I’ll think long and hard.” Hart glared at the High Lord, his disappointment evident.

Tamlin was ready to unleash all manner of slurs before I pulled him out of the house. In the middle of the street, horses and Fae of all shapes and colors pushing by, I could see the ruin inside him. The failure, the self-loathing, a mounting storm ready to pour thunder and lightening. I couldn’t be sure when exactly he’d snap, but I had a feeling it’d be mere moments. It seemed to vibrate off him; tremors of warning.

“Tam.” I spoke with all the channeled intention I could muster. He did not meet my gaze, staring off at nothing as his chest rose and fell, faster each time. So I clutched his chin and forced it towards me. He could not explode here. Not with all these people around. People we needed to trust him again. Once our eyes locked I let my voice be nothing but a lethal whisper. “You’re going to transform. And you’re going to carry me back to the manor. _Then_ you will decide how to deal with your emotions.”

The storm in his eyes did not settle, but in half a second he’d become the beast. I didn’t wait for him to bend for me, I simply leapt atop him and dug my fists deep into his wild mane. My thighs clutched for dear life before I leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Run.”

He took off like a bolt of lightening and leapt over crowds of people. He got so high I thought we might be flying at times. It should have terrified me, the speed with which he pummeled through the village, but even if he was not in control of his emotions he was in control of this.

When we arrived at the manor, he bent for me to slide off him just outside the front door. He sauntered in before me and I was glad I stayed back as one swipe of his paw sent the vase on the foyer table soaring against the wall. It shattered with such a ruckus it hurt my ears.

I could see it unfold. The madness. The unrelenting rage that boiled out of a hurt so deep even he couldn’t reach it. He could only destroy. Chaos and anger was the defense. Was the easy way out. Nothing could stop him, his brute strength able to tear through the marble walls.

And he was going to. Not a single rational thought crossed his mind as he moved to undo all the effort we’d put into fixing the place. All the progress we’d made on him.

“No,” I said. I refused it. Others cowered before him when he got like this. Feyre cowered. I would not.

He was already rupturing. The floor trembled before all the picture frames we’d replaced along the walls exploded in a shimmering sea of glass. I remained out of the line of fire, standing at the doorway, but I couldn’t let it go on.

“TAMLIN!” I shouted at him. He didn’t hear me. He probably didn’t hear anything. Just a ringing in his ears and the sounds of those that betrayed and distrusted him. He was utterly consumed, roaring so loud it shook me to my core.

If he wouldn’t listen, I had to try something else. I didn’t know what to do but I knew I had to break the cycle. It needed to stop. He couldn’t be allowed to take his anger out this way anymore. There was a heavy vase sitting just outside the front door. I dumped the dirt out of it and took my aim.

It landed with a horrible clamor, shattering as it collided with the great beast’s side. He whimpered, his head finally whipping toward me. I stood my ground, ready to do it again if he didn’t stop. My voice was unrecognizable as I spoke. “That’s. Enough.”

He panted, eyes wild. I half thought he might lunge at me and rip me to shreds. But eventually he shifted back to his Fae form. He fell to his knees, hands clutching his head as he sobbed.

Something told me he had not cried like this since…perhaps ever. It was a weakness he never let himself experience. Rage was always his outlet. Never tears. Never like this.

Horrible, shuddering sobs ran through his body. He moaned, rocking himself back and forth through it. He was broken.

But he was not alone.

I stepped over the shards of glass and knelt before him, draping my arms around his shaking form. He only cried harder, barely able to drag in breath.

I held him there through all of it. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, hours or minutes, and it didn’t matter. I would not let go until it was over.

The sobs eventually faded along with the tears. He raised his head slowly and I took in the damp redness that covered his elegant features. I gathered my sleeve and began gently wiping away the remnants of tears. Tamlin’s eyes never left me as I did so. I brushed back his silken hair behind his ears, clearing it away from his perfect face. There were a few spots of moisture I’d missed, dabbing softly at the corners of his eyes and under his chin.

When I was finished, with my hand still cupping his cheek, he turned his head slightly until his lips pressed against my skin. Then he nuzzled into my hand and closed his eyes. My chest ached. Burned for him. Like there was some invisible vine between us that dragged me closer. Pulled me towards him. Even if he was volatile. Broken. I wanted—no, needed—to be there for him. With every fiber of my being.

It was overwhelming; the sensation that took over me. I thought I might be the one to burst. “Tamlin,” I breathed. His eyes fluttered open to meet mine and suddenly—I watched his pupils dilate, a realization glowing deep within them. We were…

We were covered in glass. And porcelain.

I rose to my feet, pulling him with me. Once he was standing I could see the rip in his shirt from where the vase had struck him, cutting the skin beneath. It leaked blood in tiny droplets. I didn’t apologize because I wasn’t sorry. I did what needed to be done to stop him. That said, I grabbed his wrist and hauled him to the infirmary.

“Sit.” I pointed to the padded table. He obeyed, pulling off his shirt with a wince. My breath caught short at the sight—not the blood—but the rippling muscle beneath his sun-kissed skin.

I lightly touched and prodded at the ribs surrounding the cut, wondering how much damage I’d inflicted. Tamlin answered my thoughts out loud. “I don’t think anything’s broken.”

I frowned. “Good. I didn’t meant to hurt you, just…stop you.”

“I know.” He said.

I loaded up some some gauze with a disinfectant, pressing it gingerly to the cut. It was already healing, but I wiped up the excess blood anyway. When I was finished, it would be an absolute lie if I said I didn’t want to continue to run my hands over the rest of his chiseled body. I clenched my fists to combat the urge, instead grabbing a pair of tweezers to pluck out a tiny shard of glass from my knee.

“I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t there.” He spoke quietly.

I sighed. “You would have turned the place into a pile of splinters and rubble.” I looked sternly at him then. “It’s not going to be easy. And you can’t expect people to trust you again if you can’t trust yourself. Or control yourself.”

He nodded. “I know.”

“Good. So what we’re going to do is deal with our emotions. Feel them. Acknowledge them. Let them out to breathe. Find constructive solutions for them. What we’re _not_ going to do is suppress them and make messes we both worked so hard to clean.” I began picking at the bits of glass also lodged in his knees.

Tamlin snapped his fingers and I knew the foyer had been righted. “I will…try that.”

I smiled up at him. “That’s all I ask.”

And there it was again. The pull. Magnetic, almost. I saw it reflecting back at me in his eyes. “Eve,” he said my name as if it was the beginning of a lullaby.

I rose to my feet and knew I shouldn’t have. It brought us to the same height. It put his broad chest directly in front of mine. Put his face close enough that I’d only have to lean a few inches…

Tamlin shut his eyes and let out a breathy curse.

“What is it?” I asked, finding myself shaking slightly from the urge to touch him. To let him touch me. I was prepared to do anything it took to close our distance.

He stared at the floor. “The last time I fell for a human…it ended terribly.”

“Not all human girls are the same.”

“Of course not, I—“

The flame inside me had turned to solid ice. “I’m not Feyre.”

Panic spread across his features. “I know that!”

“I don’t think you do, Tamlin.” I tossed the tweezers into the cabinet and left before he could stop me. My feet carried me up the stairs and into my bedroom where I locked the door and crawled into bed.

It was my turn to weep.

+

The day passed and Tamlin left me alone. I didn’t know what he was doing and I didn’t care. It was foolish, that I’d let myself start to feel for him. I cared so much it threatened to consume me. But he was too broken. Too stuck on the love he once had. A love I reminded him of constantly. With my clothing and my fragile human-ness…

A quiet knock sounded at the bedroom door. I stared at it, not ready to speak with him. To acknowledge what I was to him: a proxy for the human he used to love. Perhaps still did.

I saw a small folded paper slip under the door.

My eyes squinted, thinking about ignoring it to spite him. Yet despite myself, I crawled out of the bed and picked up the letter.

_You didn’t let me finish what I was going to say._

I scowled.

A range of angry thoughts flashed through my mind as I threw open the door, prepared to stomp to his room and yell at him. But he was standing right there, blocking the whole doorway with his large self. He’d put on a shirt, I noticed with some relief. Perhaps it’d be easier to yell at him that way.

We stared at each other for a few moments, his eyes focused. I chewed on my lip before speaking my mind. “I don’t want to stay here if I’m only going to exist as the ghost of someone you loved. I’ll go. I’ll leave.”

Tamlin’s arms braced against the doorway on either side of me, eliminating all chance I had to slip past him. His jaw was set. Determined. “No, you won’t.”

I started to ask how he could be so certain about that, but he cut me off with his lips. They pressed into mine, soft, warm and unwavering. A glorious fire erupted inside me, burning even brighter than it had in the infirmary. I wanted to be mad at him. I tried as hard as I could. But it took a backseat to the sensation pouring through me. I only took in the scent of him. Savored the way our lips melted together like they’d rehearsed it.

Tamlin pulled away before I could deepen the kiss. “I was going to _say_.” His voice was low, perhaps intentionally so. “That even though the last time ended terribly…even if it sent me into a downward spiral that destroyed my court and everything around me…” His eyes were like glittering jade flecked with gold, his face so close his breath wafted over my chin. “I can’t stop myself from feeling…what I feel for you.”

I held back a whimper of relief and raised a hand to trace the gentle slope of his cheek, the shape of his brow. I chuckled softly. “That is a very wordy way of admitting you have a crush on me.”

The High Lord smirked.

“And as for what you feel for me…” I played, finding all remnants of anger having dissipated entirely after hearing his words. Knowing deep within myself they were true. My finger began a slow trail down his neck, wondering how it would feel beneath my lips. How all of him would feel. “…Tell me more about that.”

Tamlin dipped to take my bottom lip between his teeth. There was something possessive, primal about it. My knees went weak.

“I’ve wanted to taste you since I found you in the forrest.” He spoke against my mouth. His tongue slipped out and dragged torturously along my bottom lip. “I wanted to leave you there, knowing I wouldn’t stand a chance against you if I brought you with me.” His arms snaked around my waist and pulled me against him. The heat, the muscle, the solidity of him…I thought I might faint. “And when you didn’t run from me, didn’t cower in the shadow of the monster I’d become…” He released a shaky breath. “I knew I’d spend the rest of my life trying to repay you for it.”

“Tam—“ My voice broke as his teeth gently pulled at my earlobe. I’d turned into a pile of mush in his arms, the pure strength of them being the only thing holding me up.

His breath was hot against my ear, a low growl lacing his words. “And when you ride me…” My eyes fell closed on their own accord. “The feeling of your body wrapped around me is…” A guttural sound rumbled in him and caressed every inch of me in the process. “…Unbearable.”

A sound escaped my throat. “Good…to know.”

He pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes. “And what do I make you feel, Evelyn?”

The way my name rolled off his lips made me shudder. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to speak at all. I drew in a tight breath. “Everything. You make me feel everything all at once.” I slammed my lips against his, needing them. When they collided electricity coursed through me. I parted my mouth, desperate to get as close to him as I physically could. Our tongues met in a delicate dance and I moaned against him. He tasted sweet somehow.

“Mhm,” He said softly. “Go on?”

I laughed, bathing in how he made me feel. I didn’t know if I could ever explain it fully. I decided to try, finally placing my mouth against the hot skin of his neck. I raked my teeth over the muscle there, fighting the urge to bite down. “When I look at you I don’t see a High Lord. Or a warrior. Or a beast. I see…” The words got lost inside me and I couldn’t resist any longer, sinking my teeth into him. He growled deep in response. “…I see a King.” My hands then fell to his chest, seeming oh-so small against the width of it. He loosened his grip on me enough that I could trail them lower, down the firmness of his torso. I let my tongue explore the peaks and valleys of his adam’s apple as my fingertips traced dangerously over the protruding muscles at his hips. “You make me feel…” I nipped at the corner of his jaw before whispering into his ear, “that if you were inside me…I might die from the pleasure of it.”

His resounding growl was undeniably feral. It echoed through me like thunder.

Before I knew what was happening my feet had left the ground and suddenly my back was resting against the soft bed. Tamlin hovered over me, nudging my head to the side so that he could devour the sensitive skin at my neck. He didn’t hold back—perhaps couldn’t—his sharp teeth digging in like he would with his prey. Only it didn’t hurt. It felt quite the opposite and I whined, wishing he would bite me harder. I was clutching at him, trying to pull him closer, but there was some magical restraint he was exercising. I hooked my leg around his hip to try and bring him down against me, letting out a breathy “ _please._ ”

It worked and he finally caved, grinding his body into mine. At the friction, the warmth, I moaned shamelessly. Tamlin let out a similar sound.

And then there was a knock at the front door.

We froze and I could almost see Tamlin’s ears perk up. He was panting, staring at the side waiting for another knock to make sure we’d actually heard it.

A few moments later, another knock came.

“Fuck.” Tamlin snarled, climbing off me and heading through the mansion. I followed and stayed in the shadows as he opened the front door. His voice was reserved.

“Hart.”

The bitter ex-sentinel stood in the doorway, hands in his pockets with his chest puffed out. “I came to tell you that…I thought about it.”

The High Lord kept his silence.

“I thought about what you said and…” He took a deep breath and released it. “Thank you. For your apology. I’m sure that wasn’t easy for you.”

Tamlin only released a light grunt in response.

Hart continued. “…I will rejoin your Court. Under a few conditions.”

The High Lord’s brow quirked. “Conditions?”

“Yes, conditions. You broke my trust. All of ours. You punished one of your innocent guards because of the witch whispering in your ear. If you bring in a Priestess, I will leave. If you can’t trust me and my word, I will leave. Those are my conditions.”

Tamlin contemplated. “It’s customary—“

“Those are my conditions, Tamlin. I served you for too many years to count and I will serve a thousand more. But I will only serve a Court built upon trust, truth, and fairness.”

I waited with bated breath to hear Tamlin’s response. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking in that moment.

Finally the High Lord replied, “Alright. I accept your terms.”

Hart’s mouth cracked into a smile. Suddenly he was looking at an old friend. I wanted to hug both of them.

Hart was to return the following day to resume his duties. When the door was shut, Tamlin’s hand rested upon it. I approached, running my fingers down his back. He turned to face me and I saw an ocean’s worth of emotion in his eyes.

I couldn’t withhold the happy laugh that fell from me. “One down.”

He regarded me with something like awe. “One down.”

I suddenly had an idea, bounding to Tamlin’s study for a piece of paper and a pen. I drafted a short letter and folded it thrice before whipping around to find the High Lord leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. The air of hope that surrounded him was tangible, though he tried mildly to suppress it.

“How does one send a letter around here?” I asked, holding up the paper.

“Depends. Where are you sending it?”

I grinned mischievously. “The Night Court.”

His face fell.

“Don’t worry,” I approached. “I’m not begging High Lord Rhysand to come rescue me.” He squinted suspiciously and I flipped the letter so he could read to whom it was addressed.


	6. Negotiation

It was with immense physical and mental power that we managed to sleep in separate bedrooms that night. I could feel the request dangling on his lips as he kissed me goodnight. Lingered. Bit my lip, but softly. I wanted it, too, but something told us to wait. And so we did.

In the morning I found Tamlin in the dining room sipping tea, looking over an assortment of papers.

“Good morning,” I called.

He glanced up with eyes so bright I thought he’d harnessed the sun within them. “Good morning,” he said pleasantly, using his magic to make a fresh plate of breakfast appear beside him.

I took my seat and dug in, finding it hard to look away from how he almost sparkled. “What is all that?” I gestured to the parchment.

“Plans, decrees, maps.” He spread them out. “The Court will need to be rearranged.”

Hearing him use the word was a dream come true in itself. It was the first time he acknowledged there even _was_ a Court.

I watched him pour over the papers, making notes along them, chewing his lip as he concentrated. The sight caused my heart to swell, on the verge of bursting. I finished my breakfast and looked out the window to the garden. While we had repaired the inside of the mansion, the grounds needed desperate attention.

“I’m going to tend to the garden,” I announced. Before I could walk away, Tamlin grabbed my hand and brought it to his lips. He’d always been beautiful, but the glimmer of gratitude in his eyes was truly something else. Having Hart back wasn’t much, but it was a start. And for the troubled beast I’d met a handful of days ago…it was a new beginning.

+

Tamlin appeared in the hallway faster than I could blink, eyes trained on the front door seconds before a knock was heard. His body language was tense. I pointed a finger at him. “Go for a run. That way.”

His brow came together.

I made it very clear in my stance and in my voice that he was not to fight me about this. “I invited him so therefore he is _my_ guest. Go make yourself busy somewhere far, far away. If I catch you listening, or if you interrupt this meeting, I will make your life a living hell.”

The High Lord’s jaw dropped slightly at my tone. He clearly wanted to argue as a collection of annoyed knocks reverberated throughout the foyer.

“Scram!” I hissed and shooed him. Tamlin was undoubtably enraged—something I’d likely have to deal with when he returned—as he shifted into his beast form and bounded out the back of the mansion. I found it unlikely he would stay away for long, curiosity and a desire to protect getting the better of him. But I’d work with what I got.

There was still irritated knocking on the door when I opened it.

The High Fae’s hair glistened like liquid rubies in the setting sunlight, eyes—one russet and one metallic—filled with confusion as he observed me. Lucien Vanserra scowled when he took in my dress. “You’re wearing Feyre’s clothes.”

I bit back the desire to take a swing at him. “I haven’t had a chance to go shopping.”

We stared each other down and I silently dared him to make another comment about it. I might send him back to the Night Court missing a second eye if he did.

“Where’s Tamlin.” He folded his arms.

“I sent him off for a stroll.”

“And who are you, exactly?” There wasn’t an ounce of respect in his voice. I wondered if he was always like this or if the High Lord of the Night Court had rubbed off on him.

“Surely Rhysand told you?” I gestured to the lilac dress hugging my form. “I’m just another human Tamlin’s trapped within his walls and forced to love him.”

This made Lucien pause. He wasn’t sure if I was being serious or not. As if that’s _exactly_ how Rhysand had described me. And that pissed me off. “So you’re a bit of a prick too, then.” I swung the door open fully and gestured for him to enter.

His eyes went wide at my comment, equally insulted and surprised that I’d made it.

“Come in, I’ve made tea.”

Lucien hesitated for a long moment before finally passing over the threshold and into the foyer.

His metallic eye whirled, taking in the spotless mansion. He didn’t comment on it, but I knew he was confused. Perhaps intrigued.

I led him into the sitting room where I’d set out fresh tea and biscuits for us. “Sugar?”

“No,” he said quietly, eyes still taking in the place. We’d remodeled it slightly. Brought more space and light to the room.

I poured him a cup and set it beside the seat I hoped he’d take.

Lucien remained in the middle of the room. “Well, I’m here. What is it you want to talk about.”

“Please, sit.”

“I think I’ll stand.”

It took a tremendous amount of effort to calm myself. To slow my breathing. To relax the wild beast inside of me that threatened to unleash itself. If he kept up the aloof charade I knew I wouldn’t be able to contain it for long.

“I’m not your enemy.” I stood to meet him. “Why don’t you try hearing me out before you decide every word I’m about to say will be horse shit.” Like I’d caught him in the act, he stared. “You don’t know me at all and I don’t know you. I don’t care what Rhysand may have said about me, come to your own conclusion using your reasoning.”

The defiant embers in his russet eye dimmed.

“Here’s an example,” I continued. “What I know about Lucien Vanserra, is that he abandoned his High Lord in the middle of war to chase down a _girl_.” Lucien’s nostrils flared angrily. “Imagine how that makes me think of you? I’ll clue you in—not highly.” I stepped closer. If he didn’t want to sit, then we would do this standing head to head. “But despite the fact that I think you’re a spineless snake, slithering to whichever court suits your needs, I have invited you here to find out for myself what you _really_ are. I’m willing to set aside what I know and hear you out, because that is what I am asking of you in return.”

A collection of cogs were turning behind Lucien’s eyes—perhaps literally and figuratively—as he met my gaze. “I didn’t leave him for a _girl_. She’s my mate. And it’s much more complicated than that.”

“So why don’t you take a seat and tell me about it, then.” _Please_ , I added silently.

Reluctantly, he stepped to the chair and sat upon it. I took the adjacent one, pouring myself a cup of tea and taking a sip.

“I don’t know why I should be explaining myself to you.” He stated, looking at the doorway as if he anticipated Tamlin would walk through at any moment.

“I’m the High Lord’s Advisor.” I said simply, ignoring how he choked on a sip of tea. “We’re rebuilding his court and you are the thorn under it’s proverbial paw.”

“You…what?”

“Your surprise is the fifth insult you’ve delivered in the span of seven minutes. I’m honestly just impressed at this point.”

He looked down, realizing that he was in fact being quite rude. “I’m sorry. But…can you explain?”

I set the teacup down. “I recently fled from a…non-optimal living situation. I’d heard there was an abandoned mansion somewhere north of where the wall used to stand, so I was headed there for shelter when Tamlin found me in the woods. I discovered the place was not in fact abandoned, though in many ways it was. It was a wreck—an unlivable disaster. So we cleaned it. And in an even worse state, was the High Lord of Spring. So we’re cleaning him too.” A touch of softness reached Lucien’s expression. An ounce of pity. “Right now there is only us and Hart.”

“Hart returned?” Lucien’s surprise was evident. “How?”

“Tamlin went to his doorstep and begged his forgiveness.”

This piece of information shattered the walls the Autumn Court son had raised. Something started to click into place for him. “And…you advised him to do that.”

“Correct.”

Whatever Lucien previously saw me as…it was no longer. “You actually got him to apologize?”

“I won’t say it was easy.” Or without repercussions.

He was bewildered. “How in the world did you do it?”

“Very carefully.”

Lucien released a laugh, a sound so foreign to the version of him that had first walked in. “I see.”

“So the next step,” I folded my hands over my lap. “Is to bring back his emissary and show the people of Spring that he can be forgiven.”

His expression wilted. “I can’t.”

“Why, have you sworn fealty to the Night Court?”

“No, but…it’s complicated.”

“Please elaborate for my small human mind, then.”

Lucien shook his head. “I’m not calling you stupid. But what happened between Tam and I is…probably not a wound either of us can heal. I don’t know what he told you but he did a number of unforgivable things. I’m not saying I was right for fleeing, but I can’t pretend I made a mistake either.”

I held his gaze, willing my words to pierce the confines of his skull and haunt him for all time. “Lucien, I was not there. I’ll never know the complexities of what happened during that war. But what I need you to understand is much deeper than that. Titles aside, Tamlin was your friend and had been for many, many years. He took you in, giving you a home and a title to protect you. And when he was at his lowest point, when everything was crumbling around him, when he needed someone the most…you left him. I don’t care what that says about you as his emissary. You abandoned your friend. And that fact alone should keep you up every night.”

I did it. I tapped the nerve inside him. I saw the guilt he’d been repressing for months rising to the surface. He couldn’t ignore the truth of what I was saying. What he had done. His voice was barely a whisper. “I know.”

I was trembling slightly from the seriousness of my intent. “I don’t know if Tamlin will forgive you. I haven’t asked. That’s between you two. But if I were you, I would be doing everything in my power to right my wrongs and make up the damage I caused. I’m not saying he isn’t at fault. Relationships always go both ways. But he never would have abandoned you like that. Never.”

Lucien’s russet eye quickly blinked away any trace that his emotions were getting the better of him. His only response was a subtle nod.

“So will you at least consider coming back?” I pleaded. “Even if your heart isn’t fully in it. Do it for your friend. You owe it to him.”

“I’m not so sure he needs me if he has you.”

I shrugged. “I’m doing my best. But yes. He does. Or at the very least, the Spring Court does. If you came back, I think many others would take your lead and find it in their hearts to forgive him.” That gave me an idea, one I made a mental note to bring up to Tamlin later.

Lucien nodded, thinking over everything I’d said. “I’ll see what I can do.”

I raised a brow as if to say, that’s it?

He reluctantly added, “I can’t just leave my mate.”

“Then bring her here! There are plenty of spare rooms.”

Lucien guffawed. “Like Feyre would ever let that happen.”

I rolled my eyes. “She’d be perfectly safe here. Feyre is welcome to visit and see for herself. Or Rhysand can come invade my mind and let her know what he sees. I don’t care. You’re the emissary, Lucien. Negotiate.” I added with a smirk.

He rose to his feet and inspected me for a long moment before announcing, “I like you.”

I stood as well. “I haven’t decided if I like you yet.”

Lucien chuckled, fiery hair rippling over his shoulder as he headed for the foyer.

“Leaving so soon?” I asked, following behind him.

“My escort is here.” He replied, pulling open the front door.

Shortly after we stepped into the sun a figure dropped out of the sky and landed upon the gravel before us. My eyes widened with shock. Gigantic black wings unfurled behind the man standing there. His wardrobe was like that of a warrior, thick leather and a pair of daggers at his side. Seven glowing gems stood out against the black, woven into the fabric of his uniform. I noticed something like shadows swirling around his shoulders and below his ears. They reminded me of the darkness that seemed to radiate from the Night Court High Lord, but these tendrils were different somehow. Golden irises took in the sight of me and I had no way of knowing what he might be thinking. His face was unreadable stone and I could imagine him sweeping up every poker table he attended.

“You’re ready?” He spoke to Lucien in a deep voice that similarly held no emotion or giveaway to his thoughts.

Lucien nodded, approaching him. He turned to give me a final glance.

“Thank you for coming.” I said with all sincerity, before the Illyrian placed a hand on his shoulder and they vanished in a whorl of shadow.

When I turned around to re-enter the mansion, Tamlin was already there in the doorway with folded arms.

“When did you get back?” I asked.

He was still watching the spot where the pair had vanished. “I never left.”

I heaved an exasperated sigh, stomping up the steps and past him. “I expected as much.”

I went to the sitting room to collect our tea tray, Tamlin close on my heels. “That was an interesting conversation.”

“You heard every word, then?”

He nodded shamelessly. “You’re doing an awful lot of negotiation on my behalf.”

The tea cups slid together upon the tray as I came to a halt before him. “Is that a problem?”

The High Lord had to think about it for a second. “I haven’t decided yet.”

I rolled my eyes, stepping past him. “Well, call me when you’ve figured it out.” I brought the tray to the kitchen, placing it in the deep sink. Tamlin followed me in. “Perhaps I should be your emissary, then? Considering ‘advisor’ clearly isn’t a real title.”

Tamlin’s brow quirked where he leaned against the counter. “What gave you that impression?”

“The way Lucien almost spat out his tea when I said it.”

He shrugged. “It’s a title if I say it is. Advisor, Emissary, Voice of Reason, take your pick.”

“Well, what position do you _want_ me to take?”

“I can think of many.” Tamlin’s eyes ran down to my thighs and back up again. I blushed heavily at the implication, realizing we were no longer talking about titles. His voice then grew soft. “I don’t care as long as you’re here. With me. You can have any title you want.”

I matched his stance, leaning back into the sink. “Since you’re in such a generous mood then, I have an idea I’d like to present you with.” Tamlin couldn’t resist, stalking over to place his hands on either side of the sink behind me. With our sudden close proximity I found it difficult to maintain my train of thought. “…I want to throw a party.”

Tamlin’s expression changed to confusion so quickly it was almost comical. “A party? Why?”

“We just don’t have enough time to go door to door begging for forgiveness from everyone. So why don’t we bring them all here. Feed them, get them drunk, make it a nice time, and use that opportunity for you to address them all and ask them to rejoin your court.”

“They won’t come.”

“You just have to make it worth their while.”

Tamlin’s bit his lip as he deliberated. “Is Lucien supposed to play a part in all this?”

“Yes. He just doesn’t know it yet. I wanted to ask you first.”

“You were right.” Tamlin said softly. “I don’t know if I can forgive him.”

I brushed a hand down his arm. “You don’t have to. But you understand how him being here would help us, right?”

His eyes flickered to mine. _Us_. I could see the word burning beneath his lashes. “You know you don’t owe me anything. You’re not indebted to me for staying here.”

“I know that.” It was hard to meet his gaze and not look at his lips where they moved so close. “I’m doing this because I want to.” And for other reasons I knew I couldn’t yet tell him.

“Alright.” Tamlin sighed, dipping to place a soft kiss to my forehead. “You may throw a party.”


	7. Thief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Light mentions of prior rape/non-con in this chapter.

The party was to be held in three days. I wrote to Lucien immediately, asking him to attend. I tried to convey the urgency of the situation and how important it was for him to be there. I wasn’t sure the plan would work if he wasn’t.

I spent every waking hour in preparation. Carefully-worded invitations went out as soon as physically possible detailing the lavish event, including that there was a special announcement to be made. I hoped the vagueness of it would bring people at least out of curiosity.

Tamlin gave me a heavy pouch filled with coin which I brought to the village, buying all manner of decorations. I decided on a theme of roses, as the garden was finally in full bloom. I only had to pay the plants minor attention before the buds were bursting with color, as if the soil was waiting all that time for someone to simply care. Whilst out and about, the High Lord also told me to pick out any new clothes I wanted. That was a blessing because I was quite ready to burn all the ones I had.

While I busied myself with preparations, Tamlin was also hard at work setting up meetings with his other former sentinels, telling them what he told Hart. There were many cogs that fit together to form a Court—he told me over breakfast one morning—but it falls apart without sentinels. Without their presence, their loyalty, the Court is nothing. Exactly how I found it when I first arrived.

So he was busy with that and occasionally Hart would help me hang lanterns in high-up places and string decorations throughout the garden. We slowly got to know each other, Hart praising me for my progress with Tamlin and telling me stories of their times together over the centuries.

I was pouring over the invitation list in the dining room, opening RSVP letters, writing down things I shouldn’t forget, when I could feel Tamlin standing over my shoulder.

“I can smell you.” I said, letting him know he wasn’t sneaking up on me.

“Really? What do I smell like?”

I put the pen down and turned to him. “Like hibiscus after fresh rain.”

The High Lord seemed impressed by this. “Do you want to know what you smell like?”

“I don’t know, do I?”

He swooped close to take in a breath. “Roses and honey.”

“Hm.” I said, rather pleased. “We’d make a lovely tea.”

His laughter was warm as he leaned over me. “Do you…enjoy doing this? The planning?”

I looked at the papers strewn everywhere, the sap on my fingers from trimming the bushes, and smiled. “Yeah, I do. I like to envision something in my head and work the pieces together until it becomes a reality.” Tamlin’s breath brushed the side of my cheek, seemingly deep in thought over what I’d said. “What is it?”

He sighed, “I know you hate when I mention her, but I was thinking about how Feyre would have loathed this sort of thing. She’d rather die than plan a party for me.”

I did bristle at the mention of her name, but quickly shook it off. It wasn’t worth the energy of being annoyed. “It’s bewildering to me how much you invested into someone who clearly wasn’t right for you.”

Tamlin quirked his head as if to say _touché_. “Love makes you blind.”

“And stupid.” I added. “Don’t forget stupid.”

He snarled in response, taking a playful nip at my shoulder.

“Hey!” I yelped, though it didn’t really hurt. “Can’t you see how terribly busy I am?”

The High Lord’s answering smile was…adorable, for lack of a better word.

+

Saturday night came and with it a wave of nervous butterflies.

I scrubbed every inch of my body, wishing I could wash away the nerves. I was running through things in my head to see what was missing, any elements I’d forgotten. I never heard back from Lucien, so that only added a light nausea over the whole thing. If he didn’t show…I turned my face into the shower stream to distract me.

I hadn’t had to ‘get pretty’ for an event in…probably ten years. I stared at the makeup in the vanity desk for some time, contemplating just not showing up at all. Tamlin could surely handle things on his own.

But he wanted me there. Something about my presence was good for him. So it was for the High Lord of Spring that I tapped rouge into my lips and cheeks, lining my eyes with charcoal. My hair was stick-straight so there wasn’t much to be done there, however I decided to weave roses through a small braid that pulled most of it away from my face.

The gown I’d purchased in the village was something of a guilty pleasure. It reminded me of a rose, delicate scarlet pieces folded over each other in such a way that accentuated my figure, yet remained tasteful. I paired it with sparkling golden shoes and rings, taking one last staggering breath before heading out of my room.

Tamlin was leaving at the same time and when he stepped into the hallway, seeing me, genuine shock crossed his features.

His eyes took me in, sweeping from head to toe. “You look absolutely…” He struggled to find the right word. “…Breathtaking”

I hoped the rouge would mask the warmth that crept to my cheeks at the way he was looking at me. “And you look…” He wore an intricately-stitched forrest green tunic over dark velvet pants. There was a leather bandolier glistening with golden daggers strapped across him. Half of his hair was pulled back into a braid as well, sans flowers. “…Astonishing.”

He closed our distance in a few sweeping steps, lifting my chin with his finger.

“Don’t you dare ruin my makeup,” I warned.

Tamlin smirked. He then leaned in, pressing the gentlest of kisses upon my lips. It was soft enough that nothing came off. I was relieved, yet disappointed at the same time.

“Are you ready?” He asked genuinely.

“I think so. Are you?”

A low growl. “I don’t want to do it, but I will.”

I nodded. “Just think of your Court some short time from now. Envision it. This is simply one of the puzzle pieces.”

We shared a moment of silence. A breath of peace. Then Tamlin took my arm to lead me downstairs and out onto the veranda.

The sun had already begun to set, painting pretty pastels all across the sky. The smell of spring was fresh and delicate music wafted through the air. The band was playing off under a vine-covered gazebo. The food table was piled high, mountainous with all manner of delights. Beside it was a drink fountain, pouring a sweet bubbly wine. My decorations held up nicely, glowing under the setting sun.

Already guests had started to arrive. Tamlin gave my hand a squeeze before heading off to greet them. We’d decided beforehand that I would take more of a backseat role at the party, so as to not distract everyone with who I was and more importantly what I was to Tamlin. A question I found myself avoiding rather often as of late.

So I busied myself with a drink, watching Tamlin out of the corner of my eye. The conversation he was having seemed to start somber. The group of Fae surrounding him looked concerned, displeased. But the more they spoke, the more their expressions eased up. The fact that they showed up at all proved that they were willing to listen and that was the most important part. Tamlin so far was doing an excellent job.

As I kept the drink table company, a few Fae approached me and started up conversation. We discussed all manner of things from the war and Amarantha to the wall that used to stand and human lands beyond it. I told them a little about me, keeping it fairly vague. I heard their sides of the story with regards to the Spring Court, finding only mild discrepancies from Tamlin’s version. By the end of the conversation I felt I could consider them to be something like friends. It was a deeply pleasant feeling, actually. Having friends in the Spring Court. My Court.

In a very short time the garden had filled with guests. I sent out way more invitations than necessary, thinking half wouldn’t show. But it seemed almost all of them did.

All but one.

My eyes scanned the party, weaving through people to catch a glimpse of scarlet hair or a golden eye. I mentally cursed him, wishing I could winnow and yell at his face. Tamlin, meanwhile, was fairly bombarded. It seemed everyone wanted to have a personal word with the High Lord. Some good, some admitting they still stood beside him albeit quietly, others outright demanding answers from him. He handled it well, keeping his temper in check and patiently explaining. Some walked away still angry. Others understood. _Oh well_ , I thought to myself. You can’t win every battle.

I was heading for a refill when I spotted something in the trees. A figure, lurking within the shadows. I looked over my shoulder to see if anyone else had noticed. I initially assumed it would be Hart, on guard duty, but he was at the front gates. This person was barely a shadow, just…watching.

Curiosity got the better of me and I began to approach the tree line, cup of wine in hand. Some irrational part of me needed to know, to protect. If it was an intruder, I didn’t know what I would do but I’d do something. This was my party. Invite only.

My confidence may have been coming from the wine, I realized as my gait felt a little wobblier than normal. The heels weren’t helping.

I approached the figure and a scowl took over my features. The intruder wasn’t hiding in the darkness, he _was_ the darkness. Once I got close enough I could see a sparkle of moonlight reflecting in his amethyst eyes.

“I don’t believe I invited you.” I glowered at him.

“So you threw together this shindig?” The High Lord of the Night Court drawled. “I’m rather impressed.”

Condescending, as usual. “What do you want?”

“I heard the High Lord of Spring was throwing a party and simply had to see for myself.”

I waved a loose arm at the gardens. “See?”

He grinned in a feline manner. “I do. It looks as though you’ve managed to patch together whatever remained of the man. He hasn’t looked like that—well, he never looked like that around me—but in Feyre’s mind I’ve seen him in some semblance of happy and I think this is the closest to it he’s gotten in a very long time.”

I took a swig of wine, hoping it would buffer the conversation. “Was that meant to be a compliment?”

“Merely an observation.”

I rolled my eyes. “Admit it, you’re just jealous you weren’t invited.”

“I suppose I am,” Rhysand sighed. “I can’t fathom what Lucien has that I don’t. I’m much better-looking. _And_ I’m a High Lord.”

I barked a laugh. “Modesty,” was my only response. “He’s not here anyway, so don’t feel too bad.”

“He’s coming.” Rhysand announced. “I just wanted to survey for myself first.”

“How kind.” I lathered my voice with sarcasm.

Rhysand folded his arms as he leaned against the tree trunk. “I have to wonder what you’re getting out of all this? Are you in love with him? Desperate for power?”

“It’s none of your business.” I stated matter-of-factly.

But that was not the answer Rhysand wanted to hear.

Sharp, black talons sank their way into my mind, clutching it. He was too fast and I’d had too much to drink. I couldn’t build my wall of vines in time. Images started to flash—of our meeting in the woods, of Tamlin’s explosion in the foyer, of me cradling him as he wept, of the realization that struck me like a bolt of lightening when he met my eyes, of his body grinding against mine as I moaned—

I couldn’t build a mental wall, but my arm still worked. So I chucked what was left in my wine glass at the High Lord. He retreated from my mind, his face and hair now covered in the liquid. It dripped off him, soaking through his black jacket.

“Ask _permission_.” I growled at him, feeling so angry I could cry.

He wiped some of the wine from his eyes and the bridge of his nose, mildly amused. “Well, that answered my question at least.”

“You’re a _prick_.” I seethed, wishing I had magic so that I could strike him.

“You and my mate seem to share that sentiment.” Rhysand commented as he brushed droplets off his shoulder.

But he could see the tears forming in my eyes. What he saw in my mind was so personal I hadn’t even been able to unpack it myself. And he took it without asking. He dove in and took all of it. I would never be able to keep that truth only for myself. He now knew and there was nothing I could do about it.

It reminded me of what Gregory had done. Taken a part of me for himself. Taken it without asking. Held me down and stole what he wanted.

My chest started to heave, the tears flowing freely from my eyes. I felt frozen, just like I had in those moments at my old home. I couldn’t fight. Could only plan my escape. Could only dream of a white manor with roses and sunshine.

“Eve.” The High Lord’s voice was soft for once. He went to grab my arm, realizing he’d done something terrible. “I’m sorry.”

I couldn’t stop shaking. At his touch I flinched away. The last thing I wanted was for him to touch me. I wanted him to burn in hell right alongside Gregory. “Get away from me.”

His hand retracted, but he was confused. Trying to understand where my reaction was coming from. It’s too bad he didn’t look a little further back in my memory.

“Please leave.” I begged, finding it hard to get enough air. Each breath was a gasp. I needed to be alone.

“Are you going to be alright?”

“LEAVE.” I screamed at him, glad that the party music had grown loud enough that those attending wouldn’t hear me.

With a deep look of concern, the High Lord of the Night Court finally winnowed away, leaving me to sob in peace.

I braced myself against the tree, tossing my empty wine glass to the dirt. I drew in slow breaths, each time I did so trying to think of something that calmed me. The rose garden. Tamlin’s smile. The library. A full plate of breakfast. The spring breeze as it rolled through long blades of grass.

Eventually my breathing returned to normal. The shaking subsided. The tears went dry.

I cursed High Lord Rhysand, cursed him for what he took and for ruining my makeup. I did my best to clean it up, wiping away the charcoal that had run down my cheeks.

I took a long path around the garden to avoid the party, slipping into the mansion without being noticed. I fixed my makeup and drew in a deep, steadying breath before heading back outside.

When I reappeared on the veranda, I spotted Lucien. He saw me as well, eyes raking over me with worry. I headed to the drink table to pour a new glass as I was now entirely sober. Lucien met me there.

“Are you alright?” He asked, still looking for signs that I wasn’t. Rhysand had obviously told him to check on me.

I took a swig. “No. But it’s fine. I’m glad you turned up.”

“Yeah.” He straightened his burgundy vest. Beneath it was silk shirt with roses embroidered into the lapels. “I hadn’t written back to you because I wasn’t sure I was going to come until about an hour ago.”

I released an exhausted sigh. “Better late than never.”

Lucien was observing me closely, still concerned. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Did Rhysand tell you to ask me? So he can ease his guilty conscience after he raped my mind? Fuck off, the both of you.”

The redhead’s eyes went wide. He touched my elbow and suddenly I was standing in the sitting room. I wobbled, my glass almost spilling over as I tried to get my footing. I blinked rapidly, taking in my surroundings. “You winnowed me?”

Lucien grabbed the cup out of my hand and placed it upon the table. “This clearly isn’t a conversation that needs to be had outside.”

“This isn’t a conversation at all,” I countered.

“What did he do to you?” Lucien asked calmly. “I won’t tell him what you say and I won’t let him into my mind to find out. I swear it.”

Thinking about it all over again made me want to die. I’d just finished putting on a fresh layer of mascara, too. “He went into my mind without asking. He saw…everything. And there was nothing I could do.”

Lucien frowned. “He’d said you’d stopped him before.”

“I was prepared then. Also, that’s irrelevant.”

“You’re right.”

I closed my eyes and shook my head. “He had no fucking right. I’m not High Fae. I can’t fight back. And I shouldn’t have to. I left my other home to get away from this feeling and yet it’s followed me here in the form of a High Lord.”

Lucien’s brow furrowed, crinkling the scar that laid across it. “What do you mean?”

“My aunt’s husband liked to take whatever he wanted from me, too.”

Understanding filled his eyes, along with a wave of horror.

“Anyway, if Rhysand ever comes near me again I’ll sic my dog on him.”

Lucien squinted. “Is…are you referring to Tamlin?”

“Yes.”

He released a laugh. “Good plan.”

“Actually, I won’t be telling Tamlin about it. He doesn’t need more reasons to rip out Rhysand’s throat.”

Lucien nodded with understanding. “Well…I’m sorry that happened. Rhysand means well overall, but sometimes his methods are questionable.”

“Questionable is a nice way of putting it.” I rolled my eyes, grabbing the wine glass. “Can we get back to the party now? I put so much work into organizing it I want to at least enjoy some of it.”

Lucien agreed, following me back out to the gardens.

+

Once I had more to drink and eat, letting the light-hearted music seep into me, I began to forget how livid I’d been earlier. It helped that I’d catch Tamlin’s eyes seeking me out in the crowd, sending me a wink or a smile. Him and Lucien were avoiding each other like the plague, but it didn’t matter. The fact that Lucien was there meant enough to everyone in attendance.

A couple hours into the party Tamlin was able to finally break away from all those that wished to talk to him and found himself at my side near the band. His hand slipped to my lower back as he leaned in to whisper in my ear. “Being forced to watch Fae males ogle over you in that dress is a new form of torture.”

“Oh?” I replied. “Is the High Lord jealous?”

“Terribly,” he snarled.

I bit back a smile. “Well, I’m free game aren’t I? I should go let them know where to find me later tonight.”

Tamlin pulled me against him in a possessive jerk, his hand slipping behind my neck. I melted at the touch, surprised that he didn’t care who might be watching. We’d settled on not making it obvious there was something between us, but he seemed happy to throw that right out the window as he slammed his lips into mine.

When he pulled away I was breathless, but smiling. “You’re out of control.”

He smirked. “Tame me later?”

Something warm pooled at my core. Yes. Yes, I wanted that more than anything in the whole world.

But first, we had a Court to rebuild. And it was time for the High Lord’s speech.

As we planned it, Tamlin took to the veranda with Hart and Lucien at his side. I could feel the tension between his former emissary and him like it was a tangible cloud. They managed to avoid each other all night. I prayed everyone else was too drunk to notice.

With all eyes upon him, the High Lord began to speak. He said much of what he said to Hart, to the others he spoke with since then, and even added something new I’d never heard him say before. That he missed them. He missed the closeness his Court once had. The feeling of camaraderie and companionship. That he was wrong and cannot undo those mistakes, but he could try. Because he wanted more than anything to be a pillar of strength for his Court. He wanted a Court to protect and a Court to love. He needed it.

As he addressed the crowd, more than once his eyes found mine. Like he was seeking out something stable in a moment of vulnerability. And it _was_ terribly vulnerable. It was candid. It wasn’t a rehearsed speech or one read off a paper. It was him laying himself bare, because he had no other choice. There were no other options. He’d pushed them away in the first place and all Tamlin could do now was apologize and show that he’d changed. Learned from his mistakes. The rest was up to them.

There was a pledge, a large board off to the side where people of the could add their names and re-pledge their fealty to him. Pledge that they would give him another chance.

It was not quick, but one after another, Fae in attendance added their names. I overheard some whispering that if Lucien returned, surely Tamlin was back on the right path. I smirked, knowing my plan had worked. And as the High Lord spoke and more names filled up the board, I could see the light shifting in him. The disbelief even, that it was working. After his speech, a few more names were added and then it was clear the rest weren’t ready to side with him. But that was fine. They could enjoy the wine and the music. We’d get them eventually.

After another hour or two of dancing, drinking and eating, the party started to wind down. People slowly left until there were only a handful left, Lucien included. I was about to go thank him again for showing up when the High Lord grabbed my wrist and led me away.

Once we were fully out of sight from any last party stragglers, he pulled me into his arms in a tight embrace. I held him back, the gesture filling me with comfort.

“You are so amazing.” He breathed against my hair. “I just…”

I reveled in the way his voice rumbled through his chest when he spoke. It was soothing.

“I just…” Tamlin struggled to find the words he wanted to say, pulling back to cup my cheeks between his hands. “I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve having you come into my life.”

He looked at me with such gentleness, such awe. There was love there. Even if he couldn’t say it, I knew. I saw it clear as day. It was love and so much more. It glowed, that cord of flowered vines that connected us. That pulled me towards him and always would.

“You are—” He started, breath catching in his throat. I watched the stars reflect in his beautiful eyes, finding I could happily drown in them. Instead of letting him struggle, I leaned up to kiss him. Him, the High Lord I’d found in fragments and was slowly piecing together. The High Lord that set aside his pride in order to rebuild his Court. My High Lord. Mine.

The word threatened to pour out of me as our lips met, dancing on the tip of my tongue. But I felt that we weren’t alone and slowly pulled my eyes open.

Hart was indeed standing some yards away, rather awkwardly waiting for us to finish kissing before he addressed the High Lord. Tamlin turned to him expectantly.

“Everyone has left. All but Lucien, whom I believe is waiting for you inside.”

Tamlin grumbled, turning back to me. “I guess it’s time to have a chat with my old friend.”

“I would tell you to be nice, but…” I shrugged, the sentence saying all it needed to say.

I walked with him back into the mansion. Lucien was busying himself in the sitting room, pretending to look interested in a collection of books upon the shelf. I left Tamlin there, knowing I shouldn’t be present for whatever conversation they were about to have.

Though I couldn’t stop myself from sitting upon the stairs and listening in.

“So.” Lucien said.

There was no response.

A few tense moments passed. “Tamlin, I’m not expecting you to forgive me for what I did. I won’t even ask for that.”

“Good.” The High Lord growled.

“I know that it wasn’t fair.” Silence. “But you were horrible. You could not be reasoned with and I do believe it was your actions that tore this Court apart, not Feyre’s, not Ianthe’s, not Hybern’s.”

There was a steady rumbling and I grew worried Tamlin might strike him.

“But regardless of that…I have been waiting, desperately hoping that you’d come around and see what went wrong. Pick yourself up and rebuild. I wished that for you, always.”

The rumbling finally ceased.

Lucien continued. “While what Feyre did to you was awful, I think what I did was worse.”

Tamlin finally spoke. “Glad we’re on the same page about that at least.”

I could almost hear Lucien’s eye rolling. “No matter how dreadful you were, you didn’t deserve that.”

“Get to the point then, Lucien. Why did you bother to come tonight?”

“I wanted to help. I owe it to you.”

“You owe me nothing.” Tamlin’s voice was cold.

“Fine, I owe you nothing.” Lucien spat.

I could imagine them staring each other down, a wild fox and an even wilder beast.

“Is that it, then?” Tamlin said. “You know where the front door is.”

“You don’t want me to stay?”

“Why would I want that, Lucien? Why would I bring you into my home so you can report to Rhysand behind my back.”

I suddenly realized I might have made a mistake in my negotiations. I swallowed, knowing there was nothing I could do.

“Rhysand isn’t my High Lord.” He countered. “And he’s not your enemy, either.”

“I don’t give a shit.”

“You’re worried about me talking to someone that helped us all win the war, but letting a human stranger do your negotiating is fine?”

“Leave her out of this.”

“Why? Eve is the one that called me here in the first place.”

“Keep her name out of your mouth.” Tamlin snarled. My brows rose in surprise. “Evelyn is the first good thing to happen to me in a year. I don’t care what you think about it. I’d trust her over you any day.”

There was a calculated silence. “Is she your—“

“It’s none of your concern.”

“Fine. If you don’t want my help, I’ll go.” There were no footsteps.

“I don’t want your help,” Tamlin huffed. “But I have no choice.”

“Gee, I’ve never felt so important.” Lucien’s voice was leaded with sarcasm.

“She’s right.” The High Lord sighed. “Everyone that saw you there tonight took note of it. I don’t think we would have gotten a single signature without it.” They both stewed in the quiet truth. “But I can’t build a Court with you knowing it’ll be as much Rhysand’s as my own.”

At the mention of his name I grimaced, a flame of rage heating up within me.

“And you can’t trust that I’ll keep him out of it.” Lucien sighed, before a thought occurred to him. “But you trust Eve—her.”

“Yes.”

“Then how about this. When I have to go back to the Night Court, which I _will_ , she can come with and ensure I don’t blab.”

“She’s not stepping foot in the Night Court so long as I’m alive.”

“Remember how well that attitude went with Feyre?”

Tamlin growled low and deep. “It’s not the same.”

“No,” Lucien agreed. “It isn’t. Rhys and Feyre were mates. There’s no reason to shelter Eve from the Night Court just because you’re still bitter.”

“I’m not—“

“If you’ve learned anything, Tam, it should be that you can’t force someone to stay. If she loves you, she’ll come back. It’s that simple.”

“It doesn’t matter. Even if she’s there, Rhysand can get into your mind and see whatever he wants.”

“And what’s so wrong with that? What do you need to hide?”

“It’s the principle, Lucien!” Tamlin’s voice started to raise. “I have nothing to hide—I have no fucking Court! If I am going to rebuild one, it’s going to be mine. I won’t have it ripped out from underneath me or overseen by any other High Lords. Don’t act foolish, you understand this.”

“Then you’re just going to have to compromise. I won’t leave my mate forever.”

Tensions were high. I could hear it in their voices.

“Bring her here.” Tamlin echoed my words.

“Fat chance of that.” Lucien snorted. “Feyre said no before I could even bring it up.”

“So you’ll stay here, help me rebuild, and then at some point just run off to the Night Court to be with Elain? That’s your plan?”

“For now,” Lucien agreed.

“It’s ludicrous.”

“And you have a better one?”

“Yes. You don’t return to the Night Court. If you’re going to take a place at my side, you commit to it. And when you can’t stand to be away from your mate any longer, she comes here. To visit you.”

“They’ll send Cassian or Azriel with her.”

“Fine.” Tamlin said and I had to admit I was surprised. “I’d rather have an Illyrian in the house than send my back-stabbing Emissary to a foreign Court to fuck me over again.”

“Is that to be my new title?”

“ _Yes_.”

I could hear the fire sizzling inside both of them.

“Alright.” Lucien finally spoke. “I’ll suggest it. In the meantime, what do you want me to do?”

“Your room still upstairs. You can sleep in it, or you can go back to the Night Court. I don’t care. But pick one and stick to it.”

There were footsteps so I quickly sprinted up the stairs and slipped into my bedroom, peering through a crack to see Tamlin go in his room and shut the door. A handful of minutes later, Lucien appeared at the top of the steps. I knew which room had been his and watched him head towards it.

I stepped out into the hallway and kept my feet light on the carpet as I tiptoed over to it before the door could close. He paused, opening it to me.

“How did that go?” I asked, pretending like I hadn’t heard every word.

“As good as it could go, I suppose.” Lucien looked tired. Not physically, but mentally. “I guess we’re going to be roommates.”

He’d made his choice and I knew it wasn’t an easy one. But the fact that he chose Tamlin, chose Spring…it made my heart blossom like a lily in the sun. I gave him a smile. “Sleep well.”

“I’ll try.”

And before he closed the door fully I said, “by the way, I made my decision.”

“About what?” He asked curiously.

“I’ve decided that I like you.”

His replying laugh was a wholesome thing.

+

I was happy to finally take off my makeup and remove my heels. The bath was comforting, bubbles of lavender surrounding me. After drying off I changed into a pair of silk sleeping clothes—ones I’d purchased in the village—and laid upon the bed, replaying the night’s events.

It was a success. Minus the run-in with Rhysand, Lucien was right. It went as well as it could go. Tamlin’s emissary had returned and despite the tension it would bring, it was the right move. A number of Fae had pledged to rejoin the Court, along with a few of his old sentinels. It looked like we stood a chance, yet. Spring stood a chance.

I held onto the vision of the future Spring Court in my mind, blossoming with strength and stability.

An hour or so had passed and I found myself curious about Tamlin as he hadn’t come to my room to say goodnight yet. Instead of waiting, I decided to go to him. I knocked gently and heard his voice welcome me in. Closing the door behind myself, I found the High Lord stepping out of the washroom having just taken a shower. There was a towel wrapped loosely around his waist and he used a smaller one to dry his wet hair. His tanned skin was still damp, glistening slightly in the warm bedroom light.

I swallowed the excess saliva forming in my mouth at the sight of him. I wasn’t sure I could ever get used to such a view.

He came to sit at the edge of the bed and looked up at me with a pleasant expression.

“How are you?” I asked, maintaining my distance. I was afraid of what I might do should I get any closer to him.

“Better, now that you’re here.” He replied. “I was about to come to your room.”

But he would have put on pants for that. I applauded myself for arriving when I did, trying not to let my eyes wander too far. It was difficult though, with his knee raised on the bed and the short towel falling open just slightly over his thigh. The sliver of muscle there was impressive, my imagination elaborating on what else might be underneath.

I snapped my eyes back up to his face while he toweled at his long mane. “I think all in all your party was a good idea.”

The words filled me with a sense of pride. “Thank you.”

“No, thank _you_. None of this would have happened without you. There would be no names pledged. Lucien wouldn’t have come.”

“You know he’s sleeping here.”

Tamlin paused, “I decided not to check.” He released a sigh. “Well, I guess there’s that.”

“There’s that.” I chuckled. “I’m looking forward to breakfast with you two.”

“I still might kill him.”

“Understandable.” I grinned.

He flipped his hair over to begin drying the other side. As he did so I watched the cord of muscle that ran from his neck to his shoulder tighten. It begged to be bitten. “And how are you? Did you enjoy yourself?”

Rhysand flashed through my head and I mentally spit on him. “I’m good. I did have fun, actually. I made a few friends. It was truly just satisfying to see them forgive you. It felt like they were forgiving me for some reason.”

He gave a small smile and I could feel the vines between us subtly bloom. “How about a goodnight kiss?”

Dangerous. I suspected if I touched him I wouldn’t be able to stop, but I also couldn’t say no. So I took a seat beside him on the bed. The scent of his clean body wafted over me and I breathed it in, finding it more intoxicating than the wine I’d had earlier. Tamlin placed a gentle hand against my cheek and brought his lips to mine.

It started innocent; chaste. But hardly a moment later his head angled further, mouth opening desperately against mine, his tongue diving in deep. I released a soft sound at the sensation, the eagerness of his kiss making me weak all over. Tamlin then made his way to my neck, sucking and biting intently. It caused my eyes flutter closed and I couldn’t hold back any more. I couldn’t resist, my hand settling upon his warm thigh. I squeezed as he bit down on me, stars shooting across my closed eyes. I slid my hand up, up, under the measly towel covering him. He’d gone still, lips parted against my throat. When he didn’t object, I reached further until I found the silken hardness I sought underneath. I let out a sound upon finally touching him. Finally.

My hand gently explored and his breath was shallow along my neck. I then took him fully in my grip, quietly impressed at how I could barely close my fingers. I twisted my wrist in a fluid motion and he let out a sharp breath against me. “Evelyn,” he whispered and that was all it took to unleash the beast inside of me.

I brushed the loose towel aside and leaned down. My tongue was deliberate as it swept from the base of him all the way to the tip. I lapped up the wetness I found there like it was fresh honey. Tamlin released a noise I hadn’t heard before, something between a yelp and a cry. I savored the sound like I savored him, making it my sole goal to elicit as many moans from the High Lord as I possibly could. I wanted to worship him and I’d happily spend the rest of my days doing so.

He twitched as my tongue teased around him, playing with my food before eating it. When I finally brought him into my mouth, the resulting groan was the loveliest melody I’d ever heard. I felt myself become wet just from the sound. He braced himself against the bed, head thrown back exposing his neck. I wanted to sink my teeth into it, disappointed I only had one mouth.

I took my time, the movements of my head, my lips, my tongue, my hand, all intentionally slow. I wanted it to last forever. I never wanted to stop hearing the harsh moans that came from him. It was heaven—the way his muscles contracted, his breath coming in short gasps, my name falling off his lips. I memorized it all, watched it mount higher and higher, until he couldn’t take it any longer. He erupted with a cry, warmth spreading down my throat. I eased him through it, taking in every last drop until there was nothing left but a panting, shuddering mess of a High Lord.

I used the corner of his towel to wipe my lips before sitting back up. Tamlin was still coming down from the high, his eyes glazed as he looked at me in wonderment.

Then, he pounced.

My poor new night clothes didn’t stand a chance as he ripped them off of me, buttons flying in every direction. He used his claws to shred my bottoms and they fell away, leaving me entirely bare before him on the bed. I was already throbbing, ready to beg for his touch. But he took took his time too, first grazing his lips over my breasts, across my stomach, running rough hands along my sides. Then he nudged my legs apart and came to settle himself there. I was practically shaking with anticipation, needing to know what his tongue would feel like against me.

Tamlin’s verdant eyes stayed fixed on mine as he sunk his teeth into my inner thigh, more ravenous than I’d ever seen him. I whimpered in response, my heart racing as he lowered himself until he was mere centimeters away from the part of me aching to be touched. I could feel his hot breath, hands coming to grip my thighs. I was ready to pass out from the suspense before Tamlin’s head dipped and finally his warm tongue slid along the center of me. When he reached the top his tongue swirled and I cried out. His smile was wicked as he drew circles against me, my hips bucking in response. It was heavenly torture and would send me over the edge before either of us knew it.

Tamlin anticipated as much, changing his movements to long sweeping strokes, occasionally pausing to kiss or nip at some part of me. “Tam…” I started to beg. He answered by pressing a finger to my entrance, teasing at the wetness there before pushing inside. My breath caught short, body seizing around him. His tongue returned, gliding in time with the strokes he now made inside of me.

I was moaning loud; writhing beneath him. Curse words echoed out of me and I bunched the bedding between my fists. This High Lord would be the death of me. As I got closer he began to growl hungrily, the sound reverberating from his mouth against me in exquisite vibrations. It was entirely too much how his devilish eyes never left me, taking in each moment that I came undone before him. He enjoyed it just as much as I had moments ago, perhaps even more. My eyes shot closed as release came barreling through me like thunder and lightening. I cried out his name, clutching his hand upon my thigh, my body jerking and trembling from it. He’d made me come like no other had and I was certain I’d never forget it.

His strokes grew lazy as I rode the last waves, finally shuddering when I couldn’t take any more. He placed kisses upon my thighs and wiped the moisture from his mouth before coming to lay beside me.

I was still catching my breath, his hand gently caressing the curves of my waist and hips. “That was…”  
  
He nuzzled into my neck, finishing my sentence. “That was barely a taste of the things I plan to do to you.”

The nerves in my stomach went taut. “Goodness.”

Tamlin pressed a kiss to my temple, digging the sheets out to drape over us. He pulled me close, wrapping me in a firm embrace. With his body flush against mine and his arms holding me tight, I’d never felt so safe. So cared for. It brought a hint of mist to my eyes and I was glad he’d turned out the light so he couldn't see it.


	8. Soot & Shoe Polish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of prior rape/non-con

When I awoke Tamlin was gone. I leapt out of the bed, eager to not miss the exciting event that would be breakfast. I almost ran through the hall fully naked before grabbing a towel to cover myself and sprint to my room.

I made it downstairs in time, finding the High Lord in the kitchen finishing up breakfast. He brought three plates into the dining room, taking his seat beside me when the Autumn Court son appeared in the doorway.

He looked freshly showered, hair still damp, debating whether he should enter the room or turn around right there and flee. I couldn’t say I blamed him.

Tamlin’s eyes remained on his plate so I gestured to the seat across from me.

Lucien settled his resolve and joined us for breakfast.

“How did you sleep?” I asked between bites.

“Well enough, after all the moaning.”

I coughed down the bit of egg that slid down my throat. “I didn’t realize the walls were so thin.” I stared at Tamlin who seemed content to ignore us.

“I’m used to it.” Lucien shrugged, cutting a piece of bacon.

He was used to it from living with Feyre and Rhysand. The realization of that made Tamlin’s fist tighten a bit harder on his fork, but he otherwise made no indication that he was listening at all.

Lucien quickly changed the subject. “So, Eve, which town beyond the wall did you come from?”

I proceeded to tell him about it—the outright squalor I lived in for many years before moving in with my aunt. She had a much nicer home than the one I grew up in and yet it was infinitely more unbearable. Not the happiest of breakfast topics but at least he tried.

Finally Tamlin addressed his former Emissary. “We’re going to meet with Darius today. And Victor.”

Lucien straightened up, setting down his spoon. “To talk them into rejoining the Court?”

“Yes.” His voice was void of emotion. I almost wanted to pinch him to make sure he was still in there.

“Okay.” Lucien agreed. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

“We’ll leave in five.”

I cleared my throat. “I’m much too busy today anyways, don’t worry about me.”

Tamlin’s eyes fell to me, questioning. “Do you want to come?”

Lucien was not a master at masking his expressions and his surprise that Tamlin asked me at all was obvious.

I gave him a small smile for offering. “Nah, you two don’t need me. I’ll keep myself entertained here.”

The High Lord brought my hand to his lips before heading out of the dining room to put on his bandolier. Lucien stayed back a moment to stare at me like I was a secret code he needed to crack.

“What?” I asked over a bite of eggs.

Lucien shook his head and rose to meet Tamlin in the foyer. I wanted to wish him good luck but decided against it.

+

With the sentinels they managed to convince to return over the next few days and those that pledged their names at the party, the Spring Court was on it’s way to making a genuine recovery.

I sat in on a handful of their meetings mainly out of curiosity, as I wasn’t really needed for too much more ‘advice’. I’d done the hard work at the beginning, patching up the High Lord himself. But Lucien had run the Court with Tamlin for too many years to count and he fell back into that role with only a few hiccups.

For example, I didn’t know they’d come home one evening until I heard ceramic shattering in the garden. I peered out the window to see them fighting, a whirlwind of sharp claws and bright bursts of fire. While it almost gave me a heart attack—the brawl grazing the rose bushes I’d meticulously pruned that morning—I concluded it was best to just let them have it out.

The pair would be up late by the fire, discussing all manner of things with regards to the Court. I began to grow a little bored of it actually, crawling into Tamlin’s bed early and falling asleep before he ever came upstairs.

He was too silent to wake me—much to my dismay—but occasionally I’d come to in the middle of the night to find his arms draped across me.

Each day that passed I found it a little harder to hide what I wanted to say to him. Every time he kissed me or showed me an ounce of affection the feeling surged and threatened to leap out of my chest. But there were only two days left before Rhysand’s Illyrians were supposed to arrive and I just felt like I should probably wait until after that to bring it up.

In the meantime I stewed in my feelings. Attempted to unpack them for the first time since Rhysand so violently ripped them to the foreground of my mind.

In our cleaning adventure, we’d uncovered a collection of instruments. I—rather whimsically—decided to learn the harp, going to play it often while Tamlin was busy with other things. I’d had him move the large instrument out into the garden under the gazebo, as that just seemed like a nice place to play.

So there I was, plucking the long strings amidst the sweet spring air, lost in thought over my own feelings. How far we’d come. Both of us previously living in self-hate and anger. Now our days had purpose, joy, laughter, warmth.

I didn’t know what I was doing to be honest, I simply plucked the strings that sounded the most pleasing. My fingers were growing used to it, able to swipe across and grab multiples at one time, creating pretty chords and melodies. I was writing a song for Tamlin. I had no idea when I’d show it to him, perhaps not for years until I perfected it, but the basic structure was there. It was gentle and lilting, reminding me of the breeze as it rolled over the distant green hills. Reminding me of him.

My fingers froze upon the strings, coming to a halt on their own accord.

I blinked, looking right at them, wondering why they weren’t moving. My thoughts, my nerves, all told them to. And yet they remained still.

“That’s a pretty song,” an unfamiliar voice called from the collection of cone-shaped trees to my left.

I made to turn and see who it was, finding that I couldn’t. No part of me would move.

Panic started to seep through my blood; ease its way into my bones. Tamlin and Lucien were gone, retrieving more sentinels. The sentinels that were present were off patrolling the forrest where the wall had stood. The manor had wards to stop intruders but it seemed they did not work against this one.

There was only me and the stranger that bound my body with some invisible spell.

I could do little more than breathe.

Out of my peripheral vision I watched the figure approach, coming to stand behind me. His hands swept over my shoulders as he brushed my hair back. I felt myself growing nauseous from the fear and adrenaline boiling inside me, unable to move and release it. Unable to scream for help.

“You’re quite pretty yourself.” The voice said and while I didn’t recognize him, I recognized the intent. I heard it many times before, many nights ago. Covetous. Greedy. It was the voice of someone that planned to take something that didn’t belong to them. “Quite fortunate that I found you out here all alone, you lovely thing.”

Bile crept into my throat, my vision starting to swim with tears not just from terror, but because I couldn’t blink.

A hand wrapped around to trace the outline of my jaw in a fluid caress. As it did so I was able to see deathly pale skin. My only clue as to who was controlling my body.

“I wonder if you could write a song for me? I know I’m not your High Lord, your _mate_ , but perhaps you could find it in your soft heart—“ His cold hand dipped to just above my breast. “—to write me one.”

I began to cry out for Tamlin, even if only in the confines of my mind. I was screaming for him, holding onto the vines that connected us with all that I had.

I noticed a smell, the man behind me smelled vaguely of soot and shoe polish. There was something off about it. “I wonder what he would do if he knew I was touching you.” He continued to taunt. “Rip out my throat? Oh, he would try. I’d so enjoy watching him huff and puff as I played with you.”

_Tamlin. Please come. Find me. I’m here in the garden. Tamlin, hurry._

“He didn’t react much when his other human was played with. Ever the stoic.” The cold hand dipped down the center of my chest in a possessive stroke. “But I imagine it’d be different with _you_.” A horrible chuckle brushed my ear and his hand finally lifted from me. “I guess we’ll soon find out.”

All too slowly the figure walked just out my line of sight before vanishing entirely. As he did so, the hold on my body loosened and I let out a painful cry, a culmination of the bottled up adrenaline ripping through me all at once. I fell from the bench I’d been perched on, collapsing to the stone gazebo floor. I was shaking violently and although control of my body had returned…it also hadn’t. I could hardly breathe. Could hardly see. Could barely move, bracing myself against the floor.

Thundering paws beat against the earth towards me, the beast transforming only once it reached my convulsing body. “Eve—” the High Lord’s voice was coated with terror. “What _happened_?”

I couldn’t answer. He merely swept me into his arms and took me inside, Lucien close on his heels. He carefully set me in a chair and began touching and inspecting different parts of me, trying to see if I was injured. “Tell me what’s wrong,” he breathed, desperate.

I opened my mouth only to find no sound would come. But it wasn’t because of the spell. It wasn’t because of the threat that lingered, or the fact I hadn’t seen him coming.

I was paralyzed because of the emotions I’d buried so deep inside myself they simply ceased to exist. From the moment I walked away from that godforsaken house I left it all behind me. I shoved it down deep, ready to die before facing what I’d gone through. Choosing instead to be a pillar of strength for the broken High Lord I found along the way. But I couldn’t hold it at bay any longer.

I couldn’t keep the memories buried. The way he’d forced himself on me. Pinned my arms and legs with such uncaring strength they bruised for weeks. And no matter how I fought, clawed, bit, I was always overpowered. I was always held still. Subdued. Trapped.

Out of me it came. Like a gushing river pouring from my eyes. My sobs were practically screams as I threw myself into Tamlin, clutching him with the last dregs of strength I had. And he held me, firm and unwavering.

The grief rippled from me for some time. I couldn’t reign it in. There was no stopping it. So I surrendered and allowed Tamlin to be the only thing holding me together.

When it was through, the final tears dripping into his soaked-through shirt, I could speak.

I told Tamlin and Lucien what happened. What the man had said and what he’d done to me. I never knew there could be such fury in the High Lord’s eyes. It wasn’t the same kind that filled him before he destroyed the mansion. It was different. A new kind of fury.

“I want the guards pulled in.” He breathed to Lucien, who didn’t hesitate before winnowing to them. He then brushed away the remnants of my tears and placed a soft kiss to my cheek. “I’m sorry. I came as fast as I could.”

I blinked up at him. “How did you know something was wrong?”

The words were trapped on his lips. Perhaps a thousand of them. Perhaps only one. “I felt it.”

So he did hear me. All of my screams reached him. Brought him right to me.

I leaned into his chest, needing to be closer.

Lucien reappeared. “It’s done.” He glanced down at us upon the floor and shook his head. “Who was it?”

Tamlin had no answer. Neither did I.

“Pale. He smelled like soot and shoe polish, or, something like that. A male voice but not very deep. Dark brown clothes.” Was the best I could do, replaying the incident over in my head.

When a particular detail stuck out to me.

_‘I know I’m not your High Lord, your mate…’_ he had said.

I could think of only one other person that knew.

“Rhysand.” I said simply.

Tamlin and Lucien were equally surprised by the name I spoke. I was finally able to peel myself away from the High Lord to stand. My knees were a little wobbly, but I managed to stay upright.

“It’s someone connected to Rhysand.” I clarified.

“How…do you know that?” Lucien asked suspiciously.

I had to play my cards very carefully if I wanted to avoid spilling the whole truth. “Because…he mentioned something that only Rhysand knows about me.”

That was utterly _not_ the sentence Tamlin wanted to hear.

“When he got into my mind, he saw something very random and specific. No one else would know it.”

“I thought he couldn’t get into your mind?” Tamlin asked, trying to keep himself contained. “That you put up vines against him?”

Lucien’s russet eye was wide as he watched me, already seeing how this would inevitably play out.

“That was the first time. The second time I was drunk and unprepared. And you were busy.”

The snarl was already forming at the back of his throat. “He was _there_?”

“For a few minutes. He was jealous he wasn’t invited and had to see the party for himself.”

“And he got inside your mind?” I could visualize plumes of smoke coming from Tamlin’s nose and ears.

“Yes. Rather rudely. He wanted to know what my intentions were towards you and when I wouldn’t tell him outright he dove in.”

“What did he see?”

“A handful of things, before I threw my wine at his face and he left me alone.”

Lucien knew there were more layers to the story, but smartly kept his mouth shut.

Tamlin battled with it, a war raging inside him. His temper was rising, threatening to break the surface. “You didn’t tell me.”

It hurt. It hurt to see the flash of betrayal in his eyes. Insinuating that even for one second, I could be like the others had. Done what they’d done to him. I wanted to scream at him that it wasn’t true. But instead I said, “I didn’t think you needed another reason to want to kill him.”

His breathing was shallow. Dancing somewhere in the middle between control and hysteria.

“I’m sorry.” My voice was little more than a whisper. “I should have told you but I made a judgement call and stuck to it. I’m sorry, Tamlin.”

He continued to fume for a bit, before eventually getting enough of himself reigned in. He turned to me and I could see the old wounds fresh in his eyes. “I can’t have you lying to me about him. I can’t.”

It would destroy him. I’d been building him up, creating our own happy world. Our own happy Court. But there was one thing that could tear it all down. Losing me, any piece of me, to Rhysand. If he knew the piece Rhysand had actually taken…

“Okay.” I agreed. “From here on out, I’ll never do it again. I swear it.” I looked deep into his eyes, promising as truthfully as I could.

He nodded. I knew he’d need more time to deal with that, but we’d patched it up as best we could for the time being.

“So if this person is connected to Rhysand,” Lucien continued. “We need to find out how.”

And the most effective way to do that lingered in the silence between us like static electricity.

It was a graceful movement, how Tamlin’s fist collided with the side-table, snapping it clean in half. The sound was more alarming than the action itself.

And of all the things he could have chosen to break, I decided to let him have that one.


	9. The Night Court

“She’s not going.”

After a literal temper tantrum, Tamlin sat upon the steps of the veranda, looking out over the grassy hills. Lucien and I stood, exchanging looks behind him.

“And neither are you.”

Lucien’s eyes rolled. “Don’t be ridiculous, Tam. We have to find out who it was. Do you want them sneaking back in and doing something worse?”

Tamlin snarled. “He can come here.”

But we’d tried that. Lucien sent a message to the High Lord of the Night Court and the only reply was ‘ _I’m busy in Velaris. Come over for tea._ ’

Tamlin had ripped the letter to ribbons. “What if whoever it was is waiting there for her? What if it’s a trap?

“There’s no way he’s sitting under Rhysand’s nose like that. She won’t be in any danger. Not in Velaris. Besides, I’ll be with her.”

“This is just perfect.” Tamlin grumbled, bitter as hell. “Not a week you’ve been back and already I’m losing both of you to the Night Court.”

It was my turn to growl. “That is _not_ what’s happening.” I wanted to hit him for making the correlation. “If you think I won’t return then you really don’t know me at all.”

There was silence and I could tell my words stung him. I hoped they had.

“Look at me, Tamlin.” He begrudgingly did so. “I’m. Not. _Feyre._ ”

I knew it was hard for him. I understood how difficult it must be, separating all of the tragedy when it seemed to follow him everywhere he went. But it wasn’t fair to me. I didn’t deserve to be treated like that.

I continued, my voice void of any kindness. “You have to learn to separate the past from the present. I don’t care that all your demons look the same. I’m not one of them. And if you can’t see that…”

I didn’t know what else to say.

The High Lord looked absolutely miserable. He knew he was backed into a corner and had to let us go. He had to. Yet he would go down kicking and screaming anyway.

He rose from the steps, coming close to place his warm hands upon my cheeks. The words were in his eyes. He didn’t speak them, because of how they might be mistranslated. Instead, I felt them. They travelled on the vines between us and right into me. _I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you._

Not Feyre, me. The distinction was clear.

So I relaxed. It was simply his way of dealing with the fear. The temper tantrums and deflections. Turning to how the past had hurt him instead of acknowledging how the future might. He was merely afraid.

The words weren’t for Lucien to hear, so I spoke them through the vines.

_I would never leave you. Not of my own free will._

It was the truth, bold and terrifying. But he needed to know it.

Tamlin’s expression finally softened and he nodded.

Lucien watched our silent exchange with a knowing look.

The High Lord turned to his Emissary. “You are responsible for her. If anything happens to her, I will put your head on a spike.”

Unimpressed, Lucien agreed. “Of course.”

Tamlin pressed his lips into mine, desperate. Savoring it just in case it was his last chance. I hated that fear in him, but knew there was nothing I could do about it. I kissed him, trying to convey how much he meant to me. How I would count the seconds until I was back in the Spring Court. With him.

When he gathered enough strength to finally release me, Lucien gently took my arm. He waited a moment for us, in case there was anything else we needed to say, before I was whipped through Prythian on a smoldering gust of wind.

+

We landed in the middle of a cobblestone street lined with houses. Not used to winnowing—or winnowing such a distance—my knees buckled and Lucien clutched my elbows to keep me from falling over.

I glanced all around, finding nothing about the place familiar. It didn’t look anything like how I envisioned the ‘Night Court’. It wasn’t dark, doom-laden, or sinister. The air was filled with the distant sound of music and a particular scent; citrus and sea. I wondered if I peered around the corner of the street if I might see the ocean.

“It’s here.” Lucien led me toward an unsuspecting townhouse. My brow quirked with confusion, but I followed him anyway. “I can’t winnow inside, so…”

The Emissary was about to knock when the door pulled open.

Before us stood a girl roughly my age, with golden brown hair and matching eyes. She wore a delicate periwinkle dress and her cheeks were a natural rose color. She was undeniably gorgeous and for a moment I wondered if she was Feyre, until I noticed the shift in Lucien’s energy when he beheld her.

This was Elain.

“I saw you coming.” She said breathlessly, taking in the sight of her mate with…well, little to no emotion actually.

“Elain.” His voice was not the one I’d grown used to; quieter somehow.

I expected them to kiss, embrace, something of that nature. But she simply stepped aside and said, “come in, it’s chilly out.”

I followed the Emissary in, giving him a confused glance. He brushed it off with a subtle shake of his head.

“I’m Evelyn.” I reached out a hand as we crossed into an antechamber.

“Elain,” she shook it gently.

“Nice to meet you.” I said and she gave a shy smile in return.

We’d barely stepped into the foyer when someone appeared from around the corner, giant wings tucked in tight to their back. It wasn’t the one that escorted Lucien, but a new Illyrian face. A handsome one, too. Dark hair rippled around a sharp jaw. His eyes glowed like the embers of a fire and so did the jewels adorning his warrior attire. His arms were crossed, expression bemused at the sight of us.

“We’re gonna need a bigger house to host all of Tamlin’s hostages.”

I scowled. “How _funny_.”

His brow quirked and he released a loud laugh. “I thought so.”

“Where’s Rhysand?” Lucien asked, ignoring the joke.

“House of Wind. He said you’d be coming so I’m here to escort you both.”

I wanted to ask what ‘House of Wind’ was but refrained.

Lucien sighed. “Alright, let’s go then.”

I followed the pair through the house, noting it was quite cozy. Elain watched us leave, climbing the stairs until we reached a roof that held a small boxed garden and an iron table with two chairs. My jaw dropped at the view.

Over the tops of buildings—some with puffing chimneys—I could see the ocean I’d smelled earlier, glistening under the late afternoon sun. The city undulated around a sapphire river and sprawled with color and life. So _this_ was Velaris. I wondered if Tamlin had ever seen it. Perhaps he’d feel differently about the Night Court if he had. Then again, I suspected it wasn’t the place itself he hated but rather the male that ruled over it.

“You first, Little Lady.” The Illyrian said, beckoning me over to him.

“Excuse me?” My eyes were wide with concern, turning to Lucien.

“The only way in is to fly,” Lucien explained.

“Fly.” I reiterated, staring at the enormous wings that stretched from his back.

He smirked, gesturing for me to come closer. “Don’t worry, I won’t drop you.”

My mouth parted slightly, a great mountain of dread filling me. Of all the ways to die, this was not the one I anticipated. “You trust him?” I looked to Lucien, my only point of stability in this place.

He nodded.

I cursed him, Rhysand, all of them, slowly stepping up to the large warrior. “What’s your name? I want to know who I’ll be haunting if I fall to my death.”

The Illyrian cackled “Cassian,” and then he scooped me up into his arms. “Hold on tight,” he said in a voice that was unnecessarily seductive. The problem was I didn’t know what to hold on _to_. Bright panic spread through me as he knelt and the wings raised before beating down in a mighty motion, sending us soaring up into the sky.

I screamed. Like a little girl.

I threw my arms around his neck as it was the only thing I could grab. The weightlessness that took over my stomach as we climbed hundreds of feet was unbearable.

“Oooh, fuckfuckfuck…” I squeezed my eyes shut after glancing at how high up we were.

Cassian laughed. “Try not to choke me, if I go down you’re coming with.”

I loosened my grip on his neck only slightly.

The citrus-sweet air whipped my face as we flew, his wings finally evening out into steady beats. As long as I looked outward at the ocean—and not down—it wasn’t _so_ bad.

“So what’s your story?” Cassian asked, hazel eyes trained on a cluster of red mountains in the distance.

“I ran away from home, found Tamlin, and have endured bullying for it ever since.”

The Illyrian chuckled. “Can you blame us?”

“Yes,” I said simply. “I can.”

“Well, there are always two sides to every story.”

“I know that,” I sighed. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not taking sides.”

“Do you love him?”

My mouth opened and closed like a gaping fish and that seemed to be all the answer Cassian needed.

“It’s alright. You don’t have to choose sides.” He gave me a devious smirk. “But if you ever need a break, I’m sure we can find you a spare room.”

I rolled my eyes and mirth filled his.

We flew right into a hole carved into the red rock. It was one of many, lined with silver balconies. He set me down carefully before flying off back towards the townhouse.

“Welcome to Velaris,” a voice purred from behind while I was distracted by the view.

I turned to face the High Lord of the Night Court, dripping in his usual darkness. I didn’t bother hiding my expression of disdain.

“I know we didn’t leave on the best of terms last time…” He placed his hands within his pockets. I wished I had another glass of wine to throw at him. “But I hope you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me. As you may be aware, things are…tumultuous after the war. We got rid of the enemy, at least so we thought, yet I’m finding that new ones are popping up left and right. I had to be sure you weren’t one of them.”

I glared at him. “A human girl shows up and makes Tamlin happy for the first time in a year. How _very_ suspicious.”

“Actually, it is. Yes.” He regarded me with some curiosity. “If I didn’t know you were mates, I would’ve been quite skeptical.”

I blinked, not wanting to acknowledge what he said, but also not wanting to deny it.

“Does he know?” Rhysand asked.

“No.” I said. “Or, if he does, we haven’t spoken about it.”

“So you haven’t…”

“No. Not…yet.” I grumbled, not wanting to think about how desperately I wanted Tamlin to bed me. How irrationally angry it made me whenever I fell asleep before him. But I suspected the truth was that we both were scared of it. Of what it would mean.

The High Lord led me through a pair of glass doors where a large dining room table sat. He gestured for me to take a seat and I did so. He sat across from me, propping his legs up on the table. It really was _his_ Court. “Tell me about whatever happened today that had Lucien so frantically writing to me.”

I explained in thorough detail. When I was finished, the glass doors opened and Lucien joined us, taking a seat beside me.

“Evelyn just finished telling me about the encounter today,” Rhysand said.

“So who was it?”

“I’m not sure.” Rhysand replied, contemplative. He chewed at the tip of his thumb while he thought over my description of the man.

“It’s someone you know,” I said simply.

“And what makes you think that?”

“Because,” I tilted my head in a testy manner. “He knew something about me that only _you_ know from pillaging my mind.”

“Oh.” This was interesting news to Rhysand. His violet eyes flickered to Lucien and back. “Surely _he_ knows.”

“Know what.” Lucien frowned.

“I…probably,” I said. “But not with the certainty that he had.”

“May I tell him?” Rhysand asked like a teenager desperate to share gossip.

I rolled my eyes. “If you must?” I then pointed a sharp finger at Lucien. “If you say a word to Tamlin about it I’ll kill you.”

Rhysand smiled luxuriously as he said, “They’re mates.”

Lucien blinked, “I know.”

My eyes went wide. “You do?”

“Of course. I know what it looks like. You and him did that mind-speak thing earlier.”

“Alright, so unless someone got into your mind Lucien…” The High Lord drawled, a realization dawning on him. “…Oh.”

“Oh what?” I said.

A great many thoughts were working in Rhysand’s mind. Calculations. Pieces fitting together. “Perhaps you’re right. I had a rather unpleasant run-in with a few Hybern supporters the other day. Across the sea, mind you, which is why I assumed it couldn’t be related. But when we fought I noticed someone had tried to slip past my mental shields. I was sure they didn’t get in, but now that I’m thinking about it…I was terribly distracted. They might have glimpsed something.”

“You were fighting another daemati?” Lucien questioned.

“Yes. He’s dead now. But it’s possible that whatever he gleaned from me in that moment, he shared with someone else.”

“And now you know what it feels like to be stolen from,” I stated.

Rhysand gave me a patronizing smile. “I have endured more thievery than your wildest nightmares could ever possibly imagine.”

At the coldness in his eyes I knew he was not exaggerating. I swallowed, finding myself shrinking slightly under his gaze. Perhaps we had more in common than I realized.

“So that tells us where he got the information, but nothing else.” Lucien said, defeated.

But Rhysand was still making calculations. “Soot and shoe polish, you say.”

“And deathly pale.”

“Not Summer, Spring, Autumn, Day, or Dawn, then.” He nodded to himself more than to us. “I’ll send Azriel to see if he can find out where that piece of information ran off to. In the meantime I’ll check with the other Courts. Perhaps they’ve heard something or had similar threats.”

“Thank you.” I said and meant it. My instinct was not to trust the High Lord, but beneath the prickly exterior I sensed that his words were genuine. “What I don’t understand is, why me? What does he have against Tamlin?”

“That…is a very good question. Tamlin’s made quite a few enemies over the years though, there’s no denying that.”

I sighed.

“Anyway, we’ll get to the bottom of it somehow. The others will be here shortly for dinner. You’ll join us, yes?”

I opened my mouth to object, but at the same time there was a deep curiosity brewing in me.

+

Rhysand had used some magic to decorate the dining room before they arrived. I nervously ran a hand through my hair, smoothing down a wrinkle in my pale yellow dress. Lucien and I were keeping each other company at the mini bar when they started to arrive, one after the other.

Azriel—the shadowsinger and spymaster as Lucien explained to me—brought in Elain, who quietly took her seat at the table. It reminded me to grill him later as to what on earth their relationship was.

Next came Cassian, flying in a gorgeous blonde. Upon spotting me her eyes twinkled with intrigue. She beelined for me.

“I’m Mor.” She took my hand, inspecting my face and dress.

“Nice to meet you. Evelyn. Or, Eve if you prefer.”

“That’s a pretty name. You smell like Spring.”

My brows rose, not sure what to do with that comment.

Then Rhysand reappeared with a petite woman whose giant onyx necklace and earrings glittered under the dining room lights. Her eyes were like rain clouds, peering into me without emotion.

“Eve, this is Amren. Be careful, she bites.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said hesitantly. She nodded in my direction before going to fill up a glass of wine.

“No Nesta?” Amren spoke to the room.

“Why bother even asking,” Mor replied. “We’re simply not worthy of her presence.”

Everyone seemed content to ignore the subject, filling their cups with wine when the last member of the party arrived.

Her wings disappeared just before she pulled open the glass doors to join us, brown hair tousled from the flight. Blue-gray eyes landed on mine, something thick and heavy instantly settling in between us.

“Feyre, Darling. Meet Evelyn.” Rhysand cooed.

Everyone seemed to be unsubtly watching our interaction, waiting with bated breath.

Feyre nodded uncomfortably, stepping up to his side instead of greeting me with a handshake. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” I muttered, knowing we were already off to a bad start. Whatever Rhysand had told her about me, whatever Tamlin had told me about her…this was not going to go well.

Mor turned to Cassian with a look that clearly said, _here it comes_.

“Oh, grow up everyone.” Amren barked before taking her seat at the table.

“Someone’s hungry.” Cassian retorted.

“How about I eat you for dinner?” She smirked.

“I bet it’s hard to resist.” He winked at her from across the table. She bared her teeth, blinding white, in response.

Lucien took a seat next to Elain and I sat beside him, feeling like an exotic animal at a zoo. Rhysand and Feyre were diagonal to me, the shadowsinger directly across. Next to him was Cassian, and on my other side sat Mor.

A full table.

Large platters of food materialized, steaming and begging to be devoured. Everyone dug in.

“How _is_ Tamlin?” Mor asked me curiously. Feyre’s eyes darted over to her in a menacing warning.

I nudged around the collection of vegetables on my plate. “He’s…fine.”

Mor nodded. “That’s good to hear. Because the _last_ time I saw him—“

“Mor.” It was Rhysand’s turn to warn. “Let the poor girl at least eat her dinner before you turn this into a spectacle.”

“It’s fine.” I put my fork down, finding the whole thing unbearable and my appetite nonexistent. “I’m under no impression that I’m a welcome guest here, so why bother pretending.”

The silence was deafening.

The High Lord was the first to speak. “Evelyn, you are _my_ guest. This is my Court, my home. If you weren’t welcome here, Lucien would not have been able to winnow you in.”

I met his gaze, feeling hot from the emotions that threatened to spill from me. I didn’t like being visually picked apart by everyone. Being scrutinized and judged. All because I found Spring and made it my home. It wasn’t fair.

And just because Rhysand allowed me into Velaris did not mean I was welcome.

I could feel it bubbling up inside me. I wanted to go home. I wanted to get away from all their probing eyes. Thinking me foolish for falling in love with Tamlin. Thinking he would hurt me. Trap me like he did to Feyre. Not knowing he was the greatest thing that ever happened to me. How he saved my life in more ways than one. How good I was for him. How good we were for each other.

I looked to Lucien, trying to convey with my eyes how badly I wanted to leave. Begging him to take me back. _Please._

The shadowsinger across from me suddenly stood. “Come,” was all he said. It wasn’t an order, but a request.

No one said a word, confusion evident as they watched us.

I hesitantly rose to my feet. He then stepped around the table, waiting for me to follow. I did, letting him hold the glass door open for me. We walked in silence to the edge of the balcony before he scooped me up into his arms and the flying began.

I didn’t scream this time, but I did clutch the complete stranger for dear life. We landed upon the townhouse roof and he set me down gently.

Azriel then led me downstairs and gestured to the empty dining room, “wait here.”

I was confused but did as he said, just happy to be away from the House of Wind. I’d come way too close to crying in front of all of them and the thought was simply mortifying.

I sat alone for a few minutes before the Illyrian returned with two bowls of soup and a slice of bread sticking out the top. He set one before me and sat down, digging in.

I watched him quietly for a moment, noticing the shadows were gone. Or if they weren’t gone entirely, just hidden from my view. Then finally, I started to eat the soup.

The townhouse was silent, save for the sounds of the city outside it. The meal wasn’t extravagant, but it was a million times better than sitting with every one else. At first Azriel’s silence had intimidated me. I quickly grew to appreciate it about him. He saw the panic in my eyes and he took me away where I could eat in peace.

“Thank you.” I said, for the food and the escape.

He nodded, taking the finished bowl with him to the kitchen. I looked around, wondering who exactly lived in the house.

“Do you want to go back?” Azriel asked in his deep voice when he returned.

“To Spring? Or the House of Wind?”

“Either.”

I smiled slightly at his offer. He would take me wherever I wanted to go. I wasn’t sure why he bothered, but it warmed my heart nonetheless. “I don’t think it’d look good if I left without Lucien.”

“You can stay here, they’ll be back at some point. Make yourself at home.”

I let out a breath of relief, not eager to make the flight back to the mountains so soon.

+

Azriel ended up joining me in the sitting room to read. I wasn’t sure if he was staying near me for the company or to make sure I didn’t run off. Perhaps both.

The others arrived, a collection of footsteps on the roof. The first to enter the sitting room was Mor, looking sheepish.

“Sorry,” she said to me. “I was rather rude.”

Behind her stood Lucien, Rhysand, Cassian and Elain. The short one, Amren, didn’t return and Feyre was out of sight.

“It’s okay. Thank you,” I replied.

Rhysand then spoke. “Ice cream, anyone?”

“Yes, please.” Elain said sweetly.

They were a strange bunch, the Night Court.

I ended up following the group back out into the night for ice cream. We walked for some minutes and I stayed back with Azriel as he felt like a protective shield should I need it. Feyre had joined us and seemed torn between sitting me down for an interrogation and ignoring me completely. I didn’t really care either way, watching idly as she linked arms with Rhysand. The way he looked at her was indescribable. Actually, it was how Tamlin looked at me. For a moment I was thankful that Feyre was swept away to the Night Court. I couldn’t even imagine what life would be like had she stayed in spring. Married Tamlin. Violent thoughts started to erupt before my eyes so I took a deep breath and stared out at the Sidra river where it wound beside us.

Velaris seemed to come alive at night—sparkling with lights, music, and people. The stars were particularly bright, like a reflection of the glowing city.

We acquired our ice cream cones and I watched as Elain got a bit of chocolate on her nose and Lucien was quick to hand her his napkin. She gave him a shy smile and I could have sworn I saw him melt. I had to wonder if that was the most interaction they’d ever had.

On the walk back to the townhouse Lucien fell in step with me. “Are you okay?” He asked quietly enough that the others wouldn’t hear, except Azriel who trailed close behind us.

“Yeah. It was just a bit overwhelming.”

He nodded. “I’m sorry, I should have warned you.”

Cassian, Azriel, and Mor peeled off at some point during the journey, leaving the group much smaller and infinitely more claustrophobic than it had been earlier. When we stepped inside the house, everyone was shrugging off their coats when Elain turned to Lucien.

“Are you staying the night?” It was an innocent question, I could tell there was nothing suggestive about it whatsoever. She was merely curious.

But that didn’t stop him from gawking. His eyes flashed to me in question. _No. No we’re not staying._ I was desperate to get back home. But he ignored me, under a spell of stupidity from his mate.

“Y-yes.”

I mouthed a curse word at him, not caring that Rhysand saw.

“There are enough rooms for the both of you,” The High Lord said and followed his mate up the stairs.

“Oh, alright.” Was Elain’s only response, going to the sitting room.

Lucien winced at me, mouthing the word ‘sorry.’ As if he couldn’t help it.

‘I’m going to kill you,’ I mouthed in return.

“He’ll be fine,” he whispered, as if that would make it better.

“Murder. In your sleep.” I replied.

+

I found one of the unused guest bedrooms and locked myself in it.

I curled up in the bed and stared at the dark wall for some time, wishing I was with Tamlin. Wishing his warm body was next to mine. Strong arms wrapped around me. I missed the smell of him. The color of his eyes. The softness of his lips. I missed how his mouth had felt between my legs. My thighs tightened at the memory.

Feeling for the vines that sat between us, I decided to try and send a message to him. A simple one: _I miss you._

Not a few moments later, a relieved echo of the words reached me.

_I miss you, too. So much._

I smiled into my pillow, hugging it tightly and pretending it was Tamlin’s chest as I fell asleep upon it.


	10. Five Centuries

In the morning I took a shower, screaming bloody murder when I found two complete strangers in the bedroom waiting for me. One was making the bed and the other held out the dress and underthings I’d worn to the Night Court, only they were freshly washed.

“Th-thank you.” I took the clothes from one of the twins, still wondering how they’d gotten inside. My question was answered as they walked through the wall to give me some privacy.

Downstairs, Rhysand was writing a collection of letters beside his finished plate of breakfast. The twins were now in the kitchen, loading up a plate before handing it to me.

“So you live here?” I asked, taking a seat at the table.

“Yes, this is my house.”

“It seems rather…cosy for a High Lord of Night.”

He grinned. “You should see my home above Hewn city. Much more chic.”

I began eating, watching as he wrote. “Letters to the other Courts?”

“Mhm. We’ll see what they have to say.”

“About the Spring Court...” I said, deciding to broach the subject while I could. “He’s rounded up a whole handful of sentinels, you know.”

“Has he, now?”

“So I was hoping…maybe you could not send your Illyrians.”

Violet eyes rose to meet mine. “After someone slipped through that handful of guards, you’re asking me to not send my men.”

“Yes.” I sighed. “For his ego’s sake.”

The High Lord laughed. “Oh you _do_ love him.”

“Please.” I begged. “If you need more men where the wall stood, do something to help the disaffected sentinels return to his side.”

“That is entirely _not_ my job. Tamlin lost them, he has to win them back.”

I rolled my eyes. “Which he’s doing. Has been doing. Successfully. Just, please don’t step over him. Not now. Please, Rhysand.”

“What will you give me in return?” His voice dripped with honey.

I glared. “I’m not about to make a bargain with you.”

His laugh was terribly wicked. “Oh, that would be fun though.”

“You’re _sick_.”

“What’s he done now?” Feyre said in a tired voice as she entered the dining room, taking a seat beside her mate.

Rhysand placed a kiss on her cheek. “I was simply suggesting that Evelyn and I strike up a mutually beneficial bargain.”

Feyre gave him a look of disgust. “You’re a pig.”

But his mischievous smile didn’t falter.

“How is he?” Feyre finally turned to me, finally faced me, finally spoke to me. And the question wasn’t loaded. She genuinely wanted to know.

I wasn’t sure how to respond, swallowing before deciding on the truth. “Still healing.”

She frowned slightly, looking down at her untouched eggs. Then she addressed me again. “I heard you’re helping to rebuild his Court.”

The one she carefully destroyed.

I nodded.

“That’s good,” was all she said.

Lucien then joined us, not followed by Elain.

Feyre left after breakfast, Lucien and Rhysand chatting while I bounced my knee, waiting for the moment that we could leave.

“We should get back.” Lucien announced and I happily jumped up from the table.

Rhysand walked us to the front door. “I’ll give him a few more weeks to gather sentinels.”

My eyes lit up. “Thank you.”

“And in exchange, all that I ask…” He raised a finger and my expression wilted, feeling silly for expecting he would bestow a kindness for free. The High Lord of the Night Court looked directly into my soul. “…Tell him. Put the poor beast out of his misery.”

I said nothing, following Lucien out onto the street. Rhysand was leaning against the townhouse door, watching us go with a playful grin.

I eased a deep breath as Lucien grabbed hold of my hand. “Take me home.”

+

Our feet crunched on the gravel just outside the manor where we landed. All too eager, I leapt up the front steps and yanked open the doors. I was just passing the foyer when Tamlin stepped out from the sitting room. He wore his casual cream-colored tunic over chestnut pants, bits of hair tied up and out of his gorgeous face. He was perfect from head to toe and my heart ached and threatened to burst at the sight of him. It hadn’t been a full day that I was gone but it somehow felt like a year.

I ran, sprinting towards him. Tamlin’s lips cracked into a smile and he caught me with ease as I jumped. My legs wrapped around him and my arms squeezed tight, breathing in his fresh scent. I could have died happily right there.

He hugged me close and let out a sigh of relief. “I missed you so much.”

I chuckled, “I know,” and pulled back so that I could kiss him. His lips were warm and welcoming, a soft sound leaving his throat.

Behind us Lucien quietly headed up the stairs, not knowing how long our reunion would last and not wanting to be around for it in the slightest.

After the kiss Tamlin simply stared at me, taking in every detail of my features. I knew I had to tell him. Not because Rhysand told me to, but because I wanted to. Needed to. I was going to burst if I didn’t say it.

“Want to take me for a ride?” I bit my lip at the suggestive manner in which I said it, but my eyes flickered to the veranda so he knew what I meant.

He growled happily in response. “Yes.”

Tamlin twisted me until I was on his back, transforming into the great beast in a fluid motion. I grabbed hold of his mane and hooked my legs under, chuckling to myself as I remembered what it did to him.

He took me out into the warm spring sun, the crisp air tasting better than any in the world. As he ran us through the trees I couldn’t help wishing I had some sort of transformative power. It would have been perfect, to be able to run beside him and keep up. Still, I enjoyed every moment of the adventure through his lands. We followed a small brook for some time before he brought us to an untouched clearing. The grass shone the same color as his eyes, edges of the meadow lined with marigolds. Tamlin brought me to the center of it and let me off. I laid back upon the cool grass, loving how it felt slipping between my fingers. I gazed up at the powder blue sky until my vision was crowded with a handsome High Lord, blocking out the sun.

I didn’t think it was allowed. Being this happy. I reached to touch his cheek, wondering how it was possible.

“I don’t think I’ll forget that look,” he said where he held himself above me.

“What look?”

“The look you had when you came back and saw me.” He thought for a moment. “It was almost worth sending you to the Night Court.”

I laughed. “They’re terribly mean over there. Bullies, the lot of them.”

“Were they?” A growl laced his words, ready to exact revenge on my behalf.

“Only a little,” I said calmly and he came to rest beside me, propped up on his elbow. “I survived well enough, though.”

It seemed that Tamlin was dying to ask me a hundred questions and struggling to refrain. So I indulged him, happy to appease his wondering mind.

I explained what Rhysand knew, what he was planning to do about it. I told him about dinner and how well that went. He hated nearly everything I said—it was clear in his scowl—but he listened thoroughly anyway, only snarling two or three times.

“She asked about you. How you were.”

Tamlin looked grave. “What did you say?”

“I called her a big fat idiot for leaving you and thanked her for doing so.”

Tamlin sat up. “You did?”

I rolled my eyes, “no, but I wanted to.”

He released a loud laugh, the hearty sound echoing around us. I curled onto my side, watching as he laid back down.

“Anything else?” He asked, brushing back a loose lock of my hair.

“Rhysand’s not going to send his Illyrians for a few more weeks.”

“Oh.”

“To give you some more time to build up your ranks.”

I watched Tamlin digest that information, wondering if there was some sort of loophole, some downside to it. Clearly he’d worked with the High Lord of the Night Court before. “Well, I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me too.” I said, running a hand down his chest. I was getting ready to say it. The words were dancing on the tip of my tongue, but threatening to run back down into my stomach. I could feel my chest tightening, butterflies consuming me. I suddenly wasn’t sure if I could do it. If the words would come out.

“When you reached out last night…” He began and I could have sworn I saw nerves bubbling within him as well. “I needed it. So…thank you.”

I wanted to laugh at the softness of him. A powerful High Lord with a short temper who could turn into a giant murdering beast if he so chose, only able to fall asleep once he heard that I missed him. Knew I was thinking of him. Felt that I cared.

“Of course,” I said with a gentle smile. “The Night Court wasn’t all that terrible, but I still couldn’t wait to get back to my mate.”

The ground beneath us _rumbled_.

He’d gone still, the only movement being his chest as it raised and fell with each shaky breath he took. The High Lord was truly stunned, staring at my lips as if he imagined what I said. Was replaying it over and over in his head to be sure.

“Say something.” I begged, watching the layers of shock unfold upon him.

“You…” He lunged for me. Our lips collided and we rolled until I was on top of him. His arms wrapped tight around me, digging up into my hair as his tongue slid desperately against mine. He couldn’t stop kissing me. Wouldn’t.

I had to be the one to pull away, panting. “So you accept it, then?”

Tamlin stared up at me with inexplicable emotion burning in his eyes. “I accept that you’re my mate?” I held my breath until he answered, his voice as gentle as the wind. “I've waited five centuries for you, Evelyn.”

Something caught in my throat. Sent fresh moisture right to my eyes.

“Of course I accept.” He laughed, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Of course I do.”

If I thought I was going to burst before, it was nothing compared to the feelings inside me now.

I slammed my lips into his, eager and impatient. A strong hand stroked down my thigh before sliding up under the edge of my dress, reaching around to grip my backside. He squeezed, pushing his hips up into me and I moaned right into his mouth.

We’d waited long enough. I broke the kiss and placed my lips against his ear. “Take me.”

The High Lord needed no coercing. He flipped me over so I laid with my back upon the grass. I was grateful he didn’t rip up the dress as I wouldn’t have had anything to return to the manor with. He simply slipped it off me, tossing it over a cluster of flowers. His lips danced over my skin as he carefully removed my underthings before pulling off his shirt. I marveled at the golden complexion, the dips and curves of every muscle upon his sturdy torso. I needed it on me.

Tamlin nuzzled himself into my neck, placing hot kisses there as he removed the rest of his clothes. Once fully bare, I pulled him on top of me. Just feeling his chest against mine, our skin connecting like it was meant to, his eyes lidded and ravenous as he looked at me…it was already too much. We simply breathed together. Drawing out the moment. Reveling in the suspense. I brushed my knees against his hips in encouragement, biting playfully at his jaw.

Tamlin’s voice was low and hardly recognizable. “You once said that if I was inside you, you might die from the pleasure of it.”

“I might,” I grinned, my hands happily exploring the smoothness of his back. I was so ready, warmth pooling between my legs.

“I also might,” he admitted, breath harsh against me.

I whispered into his cheek, "let's find out, shall we?”

Tamlin agreed and began to ease himself inside me. I gasped, my nails digging into his back the deeper he went. There was a small ounce of pain, but it quickly faded as my body adjusted and welcomed him. He let out a breathy curse by my ear and the sound sent pleasant chills down my spine.

I reached up to bury my hand within his hair, fingers wrapping around the soft locks. “You feel… _amazing_.”

My words unleashed something in him and he drew back to thrust in deep. Finally having the friction I needed, an immoral sound left me. The sensation was like wildfire in my veins. Every muscle tightened around him as if begging for more, every nerve sending waves of satisfaction throughout my body. “Tamlin—“ I rasped as he worked against me, into me. I rolled my hips up to meet every thrust, relishing in the exquisite way our bodies rubbed together in the process.

Tamlin’s low moans in my ear were utterly delicious. I worried my heart might stop just from the satisfaction if it—of knowing what pleasure he found in my body. That it undid him.

He was much too strong for me to simply roll him over, so I nibbled at his ear. “My turn.”

He gladly maneuvered me on top in a fluid motion, golden hair splayed on the grass. I let my hands roam over his broad chest, circling my hips. The sensation was different, even better somehow, as the hardness of him pressed into the sensitive part inside me. I writhed, chasing the movements that brought the most pleasure to me as well as what made the High Lord’s eyes roll back.

I took in every expression, finding it painfully arousing. How the muscles in his neck tightened, his forehead creasing slightly, hands gripping my thighs tight. I eventually leaned down, needing to taste him. To swallow my name as it fell from his lips. And when he took control of the speed, clutching my body and thrusting up into me, it sent us both soaring over the edge.

I was sure there wasn’t a living soul in the Spring Court that didn’t hear our cries as they echoed over the mountains.

Colors were flashing before my closed eyes whilst I rode out the last shaking waves of release. We were both sticky with sweat, breathing heavily into one another’s shoulder.

Tamlin was clutching me to him, determined to never let go. His voice was hardly a whisper against my skin. “I love you.”

My heart felt like it might burst. “I love you,” I echoed, kissing his shoulder.

I’d never known love before. Not really. Not like this. Not in the way that it warmed me inside and out. Saved me. Healed me.

_I love you_ , he said again, this time through the vines that had blossomed with morning glory and honeysuckle, weaving an intricate design of color and spring between us.


	11. Blood Red

We did not return to the manor for several hours.

Not until my legs were so weak I couldn’t stand, the muscles all over my body a quivering mess from the sheer amount of times Tamlin brought me to release. In the time it took for his body to recharge, he was burying his face and hands between my legs. And once he was ready, we went again. And again. And again.

Our hair was littered with blades of grass when we stepped into the mansion in desperate need of water and sustenance. Lucien was making dinner in the kitchen, eyes wide as he took in the sight of us. It could not have been more obvious what we’d been doing all morning and afternoon.

Tamlin stepped in front of me, blocking Lucien’s gaze. “Don’t even _look_ at her.”

I imagined Lucien’s eyes rolling. “So it’s done, then.”

“Don’t look at her; don’t speak to her. I mean it, Lucien, I’ll gut you like a pig.”

I found myself chuckling silently. I knew he’d be testy after the mating bond was solidified, it was a phenomena I’d heard about, but this was a whole new level.

“Alright, fine.” Lucien said, annoyed. “But I live here now, you know that? I have to walk around and do things.”

“Well, don’t.”

“You’re insufferable.” The Emissary said, taking his plate of food to the dining room and carefully avoiding where I stood as he did so.

Tamlin raked through the cabinets for bread and cheese, the barest of sustenance we could wolf down. “Is there something in particular you’d like for dinner?”

I chewed on the hard bread, thinking about it. Then a thought occurred to me. “Yes. I’m going to make it for you.”

His eyes softened. I was perhaps a little late with the tradition, but better than never.

“Can I watch?” Tamlin hoisted himself up to sit on the kitchen island. I was surprised he had the strength.

I pulled on an apron and tied up my hair. “Yes, but only if you don’t distract me.”

“I’ll try.”

I shook my head, knowing it probably wouldn’t last. But Tamlin seemed determined to do his best, watching intently as I washed and chopped a handful of vegetables, simmering some pork over the stove. I was no professional chef, but I knew a few recipes and knew them well. He only bothered me once—when I was using part of the island beside him to roll out a sheet of pastry—grabbing me by the neck and pulling me in for a luxurious kiss. My hand immediately went to his thigh, gripping, and all focus of making dinner slipped away from me as I climbed onto the island to straddle him.

There was flour now mixed with the grass in my hair as he took me right there on the kitchen table.

“REALLY?” We heard Lucien shout from somewhere in the house, no doubt hearing every grunt and whine with the door wide open.

When the meal was finally done—the forty-five minutes it spent in the oven having gone to good use—I handed him one of the small pies. “For my mate,” I said sweetly.

The High Lord suddenly grew rather emotional. Having a ‘mate’ was a relatively new concept to me. But for him, a High Fae that had gone so many countless years waiting to find someone that was well and truly his…it wasn’t just a pie. It was much more than that. And I could see it in the glisten of moisture at his eyes as he took a bite, savoring it.

“Thank you,” he said. _For a thousand things._

I got up on my tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheek. “You’re welcome.”

+

It was a good thing Rhysand had postponed the Illyrians coming, because Tamlin did not get much work done over the next few days.

We were like a drug to each other. Wholly under the influence. The only time Tamlin did visit with Lucien to work on things was when I begged him to let me rest. As a human I simply didn’t have the stamina that he did so while he was always ready to go again, my body could only take so much.

To make up for it he gave me long massages and eased out the tension with his strong hands. The problem was that, too, would have me moaning and his fingers taking liberties.

I wasn’t complaining, though.

I’d never been so happy in my entire life. Simply being in his presence, feeling him, listening to him, tasting him, breathing him in…it filled a part of me I didn’t know had been empty.

One night I was laying upon his chest—after an innocent massage turned not-so-innocent—and Tamlin asked me when I knew.

“The exact moment? After you tried to destroy the manor again. When I wiped away your tears and you looked at me.”

Tamlin made a satisfied sound, stroking my hair. “I knew then, too. I saw it in your eyes and it snapped into place. I’d never been so exhilarated and terrified at the same time.”

“How romantic.” I mused, garnering a chuckle from the High Lord. “So…what comes next?”

“Next…” The word trailed off as Tamlin seemed to consider a great many things. “We enjoy it. For as long as possible.”

There it was. The reality I had been desperately avoiding. That we both were avoiding.

I sat up in the bed. “Eighty years isn’t very much time.”

Tamlin attempted to mask his concern. “It’s plenty of time.”

“You’re planning to stick around while I turn into an old lady?”

"Of course.”

I stared at him. “And what about after I die? You’ll settle down with a hot new High Fae?”

“Absolutely not. The thought alone is making me physically ill. No, when you go…I’ll go.”

“Tamlin!” I barked. “That’s absolutely unacceptable.”

But he didn’t waver. “I will have no reason to breathe air if you’re gone.”

“What about your Court? Who will rule?”

“Hopefully you’ll give me a son.”

“And when I die you’ll kill that son’s Father.”

“Yes.”

My mouth hung open in shock. It dawned on me in a horrific manner, the real reason I had been afraid to admit I was Tamlin’s mate. That he was mine.

Things would have been infinitely less complicated had we chosen to ignore it. The fate of the Spring Court would not be resting on my weak, short-lived human life. I could have been there to help him rebuild. Love him, even. But when the time came I could leave and he would move on and find someone eternal. Someone Fae.

“Fuck, Tamlin.” I clutched my head in my hands. “There has to be another way.”

His silence was disheartening.

“What if…” I spoke more to the bedding than to my mate. “…What if I became High Fae.”

“It’s not possible.” Tamlin said sadly.

“But it is. Feyre did it.”

“That was a very specific scenario and because of what it made her, there’s no chance the rest of the High Lords will ever hand a drop of their power over to a human again.”

“So you wouldn’t even try.” I said, somewhat bitterly.

“I _would_ try. I would do anything to give you a chance to be with me forever, Evelyn. But I know the other High Lords and I know it won't happen.”

“Alright, what about the cauldron, then.” I offered.

“Again, not a possibility. We have no idea where it is, but more than that it would not turn you into High Fae without a price. I saw the girls that went in. They were not the same when they came out. I could never let that happen to you.”

“Elain seemed…fine.”

“Evelyn, trust me. She isn’t.” He released a heavy breath.

Still, I pressed. “Maybe that’s because they went in not wanting to be High Fae. Maybe the cauldron felt their resistance and punished them for it.”

“One of the young mortal queen’s climbed in looking to become immortal and it turned her into an old crone. So I don’t think desire has anything to do with it.”

I was angry. Flustered. Defeated. “It’s not right.” I hissed at him. “It’s not right that I’m suddenly responsible for your life when I have no control over my own. The thought of you—” My voice broke, hot tears falling down my cheeks. “It’s horrible, Tamlin. It’s _wrong_.”

“Would you rather I lie to you?”

I wiped away the frustrating tears. “Maybe.”

He pulled me back down onto his chest, holding tight. “It’s alright. We don’t have to worry about it for a long, long time. Let’s talk about it in fifty years from now.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’ll be old and wrinkly then.”

“You’ll always be beautiful.”

“Liar.” I grumbled, eventually falling asleep as my tears dried on his chest.

+

Tamlin donned his bandolier and a maroon tailcoat, brushing back a few strays into his ponytail in the foyer mirror. It had been over a week and he was finally able to let me and Lucien be in the same room together, which is how we were able to stand by and watch him. It was also how Hart was allowed in the foyer.

“I’ll be back tonight.” He announced, more to himself than us. “If he won’t come, then fuck him.”

“That’s entirely _not_ the plan.” Lucien corrected. “If he won’t come, you stay there and convince him.”

Bron, was who the High Lord and Hart were going all the way to the Day Court to retrieve. While the thought of visiting a new Court was enticing, I knew there wouldn’t be any sight-seeing and didn’t feel like sitting around as they had their discussion. So we’d decided Hart would go and help the High Lord, whilst I stay behind and Lucien watch over me.

Rhysand had sent us word only once that he had no news about the man in the garden and that the other High Lords knew nothing as well. It wasn’t comforting and Tamlin made sure to comment that the trip there had been a waste of time, before declaring Lucien would be my guardian in the interim. We all knew it wasn’t necessary, he’d reinstated all manner of powerful wards around the manor, but one really couldn’t tell Tamlin to relax if he was worried. Particularly when it came to his mate.

“I’ll see you tonight.” He growled gently into my lips, kissing me in a way that made Lucien and Hart find interesting paintings on the walls to admire.

When they’d left, I followed Tamlin’s Emissary into the sitting room to pick up my book while he answered letters on the High Lord’s behalf.

It was the first time we were alone since our visit to the Night Court and I remembered something I’d completely forgotten to ask him.

“What’s the deal with you and Elain?”

Lucien’s eyes closed, the subject clearly sore for him. “She’s my mate.”

“I understand, but does _she_ know that? The two of you act like distant cousins that have nothing in common.”

“She hasn’t accepted the bond yet.”

“And what are you planning to do about it?”

Lucien put down his pen. “There’s not a whole lot I can do about it from here.”

My brow furrowed. “Of course there is. You could be writing her love letters, sending her flowers, stroking the bond between you…”

“That would _not_ go over well.” He shook his head. “She just…isn’t interested. Yet.”

“Well, have you tried doing anything other than circling her like a strange vulture?”

Lucien’s mouth fell open, insulted. “Yes…I’ve tried to talk to her a multitude of times, offered to help tend to her garden, bring her things, discuss books…”

“What about actually courting her? Taking her on a date?”

“We’re not there yet!”

“You’re hopeless,” I sighed.

I thought he was furious, the way his head cocked away from me in a sharp movement. Until I realized he was listening, hearing something with his sensitive High Fae ears that I could not. I watched him stand up swiftly, walking to the hallway to look out the glass doors that led to the veranda.

I imagined it took a lot to shake up someone like Lucien. He who had lived through war, suffered Amarantha’s rule, was forced to watch his lover be killed, had his eye gouged from his face. There couldn’t be much that would faze him.

And yet the look of horror that dawned his gentle features was something I’d never forget.

It was horror mixed with confusion and disbelief. Whatever he saw, it could not be happening. It couldn’t exist. Not in this way.

He breathed only one word to me.

“Hide.”

I didn’t have time to digest what he’d ordered when an ear-splitting crash resounded through the manor. It was glass from the back doors, shattering and leaving the entrance bare for whoever Lucien stared down.

He drew in a quick breath, eyes wild, before a stream of brilliant fire shot forth from him. I slid from the chair I was sitting in, glancing all around me. There was nowhere to hide. Not properly. Unless I slid behind the open door…but that was ridiculous. Fae had heightened senses, whoever had broken into my home would certainly smell me.

I crept to the edge of the room, needing to know who or what Lucien was fighting. In the glance I stole I saw him. The man from the garden. Seeing him fully made my blood run cold. Long black hair was tied back at the nape of his neck, stark against his alabaster skin. His cheeks were hollow, resembling someone close to death. But he was not. He swerved and deflected every gust of fire Lucien threw at him, laughing maniacally as he did so. He wasn’t even fighting back. Didn’t need to. He knew he’d win. He was simply letting Lucien tire himself out protecting me.

Because I was what he came for. Like he said he would.

I didn’t have time to wonder upon how he got through the wards and shields in place around the manor. I didn’t have time to think about anything, except to watch and wait for the right moment. I couldn’t be sure if Lucien knew I needed the man turned around, for even just a second, but he made it happen anyway which gave me a small window to fly across the hallway and up the stairs out of sight.

I wanted to stay and help Lucien somehow, but I was useless. And he’d told me to hide. So I did.

My heart was pounding as I sprinted into my old room, shutting and locking the door. It was futile, I knew that, but I didn’t let it slow me down as I climbed into the wardrobe and squeezed myself as far back against the wood as I could go.

Even upstairs, surrounded by clothes and wood, I could still hear the crashes of the fight below.

Until it was over and a deathly silence filled the mansion.

I shook violently, trying to take in slow breaths to steady my breathing so it wouldn’t make any sound. I was waiting to hear Lucien’s voice, to hear him tell me it was safe. That I could come out.

Frightened tears filled my eyes and I reached for the vines. I whispered through them that we were in danger. That he was here. That Tamlin needed to hurry. That I loved him.

The wardrobe doors yawned as they opened and the clothes shielding me were swept aside.

_Don’t let him take you._ Tamlin’s words shook the bond. _I’m coming._

“There you are, pretty thing.” The familiar voice cooed, his smile wide and frenzied. With him finally facing me up close, I was able to see the sickening color of his eyes.

They were a deep, blood red.

“How would you like to go for a walk with me?” He held out a slender hand.

“He’s coming.” I said, my voice unsteady. “He will kill you.”

“We’d better hurry, then.” He grabbed the front of my dress and yanked me out of the wardrobe. As soon as he released me I bolted. My legs worked harder than they ever had before, taking me through the hall and down the stairs towards the front door.

But my course changed as soon as I reached the landing, spotting Lucien’s unmoving form sprawled in the center of the floor. “LUCIEN!” I screamed, lunging towards him to see if he was okay, when all ability to do so left me.

Once again, my body was not my own. I was merely a puppet to be manipulated. To be picked up and thrown over my master’s shoulder.

He made a point of stepping over Lucien as he took me through the open doors. In that quick glimpse I saw no movement. No breath.

Something inside of me broke. Shattered like the glass strewn across the floor.

Burning hot tears fell from my frozen eyes as I was carried away. Forced to look at the grass and his ash-covered boots. I waited for the sound of Tamlin’s thundering paws upon the earth, waited to hear his horrible snarl before he destroyed the man that brought me into the forrest. That took his mate.

But the sound did not come. He was not fast enough. And before I could ask where he was, tell him where we were, beg him to hurry, my captor snapped his fingers and everything went dark.


	12. Poetic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comin' in HOT with some PLOT. wee~  
> also warning, some non-con in this chapter.

I awoke lying against the cold floor in a cavernous room. Slate walls rose up and disappeared into a fine mist. Old crimson silk draped above from one side of the room to the other, ripped and burnt in spots. The place itself smelled like soot and shoe polish, as he had. There was not much surrounding me save for a cracked table and a few broken chairs. Straight ahead upon a jutting dais sat my captor in an ornate throne and beside him, a swirling black cauldron.

I immediately felt it’s pull. Magnetic, forbidden, terrible and exciting all at once. It begged me to come closer. To see what was inside.

“Evelyn,” my captor drew out my name as if to taste every syllable. “You look quite beautiful when you sleep, did you know that?”

Remembering what he’d done to Lucien burned inside me. I glowered at him, trying to force rage in the place of the searing ache in my chest. I needed to know he was okay. Needed to know he hadn’t died protecting me. I couldn’t live with that. I simply couldn’t. “Why are you doing this?”

“Many reasons.” He dug dirt out of his fingernails as he spoke. “Prythian is a sore state of affairs. I’m sure you don’t know much about it, being a human. But it’s a broken land. Fragmented. Irregular.”

As he answered my eyes scanned for exits. There was a door behind him and a hallway behind me. Perhaps that would be my way out.

“See, you’re not even listening.” He reached behind the throne, pulling out a leather strap lined with odd-looking blades. For a moment I thought it was Tamlin’s and the breath caught in my throat. He placed it upon his lap and started to polish them one by one. “It’s alright, no one listens to me. But you see, in a world run by broken Courts, all sneering at one another behind their backs, one comes to learn that a single voice is all the people of Prythian want. Are begging for. One voice to drown out the bickering, cock-stroking fools that call themselves _High Lord_.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I was in the presence of madness. It oozed from him, a fuse ready to burst at any moment. The calmness in his voice was merely a facade for the bubbling mayhem within.

“Where are we?” I asked, wanting to keep him talking while I tried to reach Tamlin and figure out a plan.

“You don’t know? Surely you’ve heard the stories.”

I _did_ know where we were. I knew it with certainty. I rattled the vines between Tamlin and I, desperate for the sound of his voice. _Where are you?_

“I imagine you want to know so you can tell the High Lord of Spring?” He stopped polishing the knives and rested his head back against the throne, exposing the colorless skin of his throat. “Oh, how I miss the bond. So _luscious_.”

I tried to ignore him, calling for Tamlin in my mind. Nothing returned.

“You won’t be able to reach him down here of course. I’ve placed a great number of dampening spells all around us with the help of my dear friend.” His index finger stoked along the lip of the cauldron. It hissed in response and I wanted to break that finger along with the rest of him into a million pieces. “But there’s no need to worry. Your mate will come.”

I tried to move into a sitting position, finding my body full of fatigue. Expended. I could only lift myself up halfway. “Yes, he will.”

“I _so_ look forward to it.” He stood and closed our distance in a slow gait. “In the meantime, I can think of a few things I’d like to do with you.”

+

There was no place I could run to inside my mind.

Before, there was Spring. A welcoming mansion, roses in every shade, running water and birds whistling atop the trees. A place I’d never been that called to me. Kept me afloat. Alive. Gave me a reason to be.

Now, Spring was too far away. A haunted place, with broken glass and a broken Lucien.

It was unreachable where I lay, frozen. Immobile. Trapped under the spell and weight of a High Fae who held no regard for my life. My body. My mate.

He was just another male who had come to take.

It was infinitely worse than Gregory. For while my aunt’s husband was able to hold me down and get his fix, I could thrash. I could claw. I could bite. I could kick and scream.

But now I could not. I couldn’t blink, staring up at the dark throne room ceiling as cold lips pressed against my neck. Wandered where they didn’t belong. As he grabbed parts of me that were only for Tamlin. Taking his time with unbuttoning the top of my dress. He was hard beneath his pants, rubbing along my thigh with a sickening groan.

I no longer knew Spring. Or Lucien. Or Tamlin. I only knew one simple thing:

I was going to kill him.

Somehow. Some way. It would happen. I would destroy him.

My fantasy of dragging sharp claws through the center of his torso, watching as blood and muscle poured out underneath, faded away at the sound of someone entering the throne room.

The filth above me looked up with a lustful smile at his company and the roar that sounded was the most terrifying thing I’d ever heard. It was lethal, far beyond the realms of anger. It rattled the mountain.

“You’re early.” The male said, taunting.

I didn’t know how he’d found us, but I wasn’t surprised. He would have torn apart every Court looking for me.

My mate bounded, fangs bared. I heard his paws on the ground before I saw him, soaring towards us to demolish the creature poised above me.

But something stopped him. Right in midair. A force collided with his side and sent him flying off to the other end of the room. He landed with a horrible sound, no magic breaking the fall.

Grinning from ear to ear, my captor rose to his feet and stepped to the throne. His control on me eased somewhat and I could move, but barely. I rolled onto my side, crawling towards Tamlin where he lay now in his High Fae form, unmoving. I screamed his name, terror a black mass threatening to eat me alive. I couldn’t lose him. Not now. Not yet.

But the stranger was faster, stepping up to Tamlin with a dagger in each hand. He turned the unconscious High Lord until he lay flat on his back before driving both knives into his shoulders. It awoke him, his eyes shooting open, screaming in pain. And I felt the pain like it was my own, except not in my shoulders but rammed into my heart. It hurt worse than anything I could ever have imagined. Being only able to crawl, inch by inch, as my mate bled out onto the stone floor.

“Tamlin,” I cried. Begged. “Please, please stop.”

“That…” Our captor wiped away the stray black hairs that fell against his forehead. “…Is for showing up before I’d finished.” He then pointed a finger at me, disregarding Tamlin’s pained moans. “I am not done with you.”

I didn’t listen, dragging myself as hard as I could, cursing my arms and legs for how they failed me, the spell having drained all energy from my body. It wouldn’t kill him. The knives couldn’t. He was High Fae. It would take ashwood to bring him down.

But as I got closer, I saw Tamlin’s blood turning purple as it oozed from his wounds. They were not ordinary blades. Half of the sharp point glowed a dull blue, the other half a light cream color. Ashwood _and_ Faebane. 

“Ah, this has been utterly too easy.” The monster said as he sauntered back to the throne. “I had hoped for more of a fight but…I suppose I should be grateful.”

“Tamlin,” I whispered as I approached. His eyes found me and for a second, just one, we were together. Until the unbearable pain took over him. “Please,” I begged again. “End this.”

“You won’t like it when I do.” He responded, cold as ice. “This ends with the High Lord dead.”

I was shaking my head, my vision blurred as I reached for him. My fingers were finally able to reach his wrist and I clutched it, needing to touch him, be with him more than I needed anything else in the world. If this monster was going to kill Tamlin, he was going to go through me.

“I think I’ll keep you by my side.” He spoke from the throne. “As a token of accomplishment. I deserve a pretty girl beside me.”

I couldn’t find it in me to acknowledge him, entirely consumed with Tamlin and wondering if I could remove the daggers without causing further damage.

“You won’t be the same, though.” The voice travelled around us. “No, when your mate is killed, it…changes you. Perhaps you’ll understand me better then. Maybe even fall in love with me.”

I cried into Tamlin’s arm, kissing it. “I could never love you.”

“You say that now.” He sharpened one of his remaining blades. “But you don’t know me at all. You don’t even know my name.”

And I didn’t want to. I would be happy to die not knowing.

“Elias.” He said anyway. “Elias and Evelyn. They sound nice together.”

I could have thrown up. At the sight of all Tamlin’s blood pooled upon the stone I should have. “I’m sorry,” I whispered to him. _I’m sorry for getting caught. For leading you here. For being something you care enough about that you’d walk into your grave._ “I love you.” Whether we made it out alive or not, I needed him to know that much.

“Get it all out now.” Elias groaned, standing with a freshly sharpened dagger in hand.

I went to grab the one lodged in Tamlin’s shoulder when Elias stopped me, invisible grip holding me in place.

“Taking that dagger out would only speed up the process. Do you really want to be the one to kill him? Come now, let me carry that burden.”

He knelt beside Tamlin who’s breathing had slowed, eyes fallen shut. He was already slipping away. And so was I, everything inside me fighting against the force that bound me. I latched onto the vines that grew between us, finding they were weak, shriveling, dying. Just as he was.

“Tamlin, _please_.” I begged him to hold on. To fight. I could not go on without him. I would not. I couldn’t bear the thought of spring. Of roses. Of anything if he wasn’t there.

“I assume his heart is no longer made of stone.” Elias mused, pointing the dagger directly above it.

If I could move, I would have thrown myself under it. I would have screamed, given him anything he wanted. Anything. My body, my mind, anything I had I would have handed it over.

His poised arm drew back to gather momentum before falling through the air. My own life flashed before my eyes, knowing a part of me was going to die. I saw the rubies shine at the hilt where the knife hurled through the air and wished it would be painless. Wished for Tamlin, that it would be quick.

I wished that I would find him in the afterlife.

The tip of the knife had sunken less than an inch when it froze. For once, Elias was bewildered, red eyes confused as they tried to will the dagger into Tamlin’s chest.

“That…is a terrible thing to do to one’s mate in front of them.”

A voice I never thought I’d be so glad to hear sounded from the back of the throne room. Elias’s grip on my body fell away and I was able to turn and see the High Lord of the Night Court sauntering casually towards us. Darkness surrounded him, pulsing and expanding with each step. He wore an outfit as black as night, wings hidden out of sight.

“And of all places you had to choose this? Have you no taste?”

Elias’s confusion melted into terrible delight. “It’s poetic, is it not?”

Rhysand clearly didn’t agree. “Not in the slightest. And _there’s_ the cauldron I’ve been looking for. How in the world did you acquire it?”

“You should know, you killed its handlers.”

Rhysand’s brow quirked. “Clever! Sweeping up your tracks with a daemati. Where did you come from, then? Clearly not somewhere with sunlight.”

Elias’s grin turned sour. “You love the sound of your own voice, don’t you.”

In a subtle jerk, the hand holding a dagger above Tamlin snapped backwards and around with a loud crunch. Elias bellowed, the knife skidding across the floor, clutching his wrist. The sight had my stomach turning, knowing there was more than one bone broken.

The red-eyed High Fae rose to his feet, breath ragged as he stared at Rhysand. “How lucky. That the cauldron should bless me with two High Lords. Are you bringing anyone else? I’m happy to rid Prythian of you all in one go.”

“Such a noble cause.”

“Truly, I’m thrilled you’re here.” There was something wild brewing in him. I wanted to warn Rhysand, but felt if I said anything it could distract him. Instead I tried to stop the blood from pouring around Tamlin’s wounds. Focusing on his breath, making sure I continued to hear it.

“High Lord Rhysand, the worst of them all.”

“Really?” Rhysand purred. “Have you _met_ the others?”

And then a loud crack echoed through the room. It was like lightening, where Elias’s magic had collided with the High Lord’s. It ricochetted off the stone walls, sweeping over us in a cool breeze.

Rhysand proceeded to snap his other arm without so much as a blink. Elias’s cry was horrific, but laced with laughter. The sound of someone with nothing to lose.

I felt the whole mountain begin to quiver, the reverberation of Elias’s cackling growing too confident. Too extreme. “Try all you want, High Lord. You can’t break my mind without destroying your own.”

So there was a fight happening beyond the one I could see.

I thought it might be over when a tremendous wave of Rhysand’s dark power unleashed itself, but something was wrong. It fell stagnant. Danced in the air between them like a fine mist of glittering night. Before rushing back into him.

Rhysand’s eyes flickered to mine, then to Tamlin. Panic. There was panic within the most powerful High Lord in Prythian. He, too, was trapped. Every tendril of magic he’d emitted was forcing itself back in on him. Blackness raked over his skin, encircling his neck. Strangling him.

Elias had turned Rhysand’s own power against him.

The color was quickly draining from the High Lord’s handsome face. Elias was laughing. Whatever power he was harnessing from the cauldron, it was too strong even for Rhysand. And the more he fought against it, the worse it became. The tighter the grip upon his neck. The further up his into his skull it reached, turning his violet irises a dull shade of gray.

I looked to my mate, breaths away from an endless night. To the High Lord of the Night Court, his eyes rolling back as all the air in his lungs left him.

I had led two High Lords here to die.

I couldn’t fight him. I couldn’t win. But I forced myself to rise to my feet. I used every last ounce of strength available to me, though it was like clawing through quicksand. My body didn’t want to listen. Didn’t want to move. It screamed at me to be still, but I forced it.

Because the short moments that Elias used to kill Rhysand were all I had. It was just enough of a distraction.

I tried to run, tripping over the weakness in my legs, knowing he was catching on to me. I could feel Elias’s power move to drag me under his control. To hold me in place. But he couldn’t do it and throttle Rhysand at the same time. That was too much power.

And the cauldron wanted me. It whispered to me with each step I took, beckoning me closer. It let me run, held Elias off long enough to bring me to it.

To dive within.


	13. Power

I sank for some immeasurable amount of time. Through glittering black water I gently fell, knowing there was the hint of light above and more darkness below. It felt less like water and more like satin against my skin, embracing me, able to constrict if it wanted to. Yet it only pulled me down deeper into the quiet; the stillness.

When there was no more light, no more sense of space, a voice spoke. It was all around and inside me. Like velvet it caressed my ears and the walls of my skull. There was something familiar about it.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

I didn’t have to speak to answer it. My thoughts rang out loud enough. _You knew I would come?_

“Yes. I could feel you lusting after my power for some time now. You want to take it all. So greedy.”

How it knew would perhaps boggle my mind until the end of time. _But what of my reasons? Do they not matter? I don’t wish to harm anyone. I only want to protect my mate. My friend._

“Don’t lie. You wish to kill. You found me so that you _could_ kill. You want it more than anything. Your hands ache for it. You want to taste blood. Want it dripping down your fangs.”

 _Fine_. I surrendered. _I want to kill him._

“Finally the truth.”

_Help me. Please._

“Beg all you want, it won’t change what’s coming. What happened and what will happen.”

_What does that mean?_

“Instead of asking for my power, you should be asking how you’ll survive it. For you already knew I would give it to you. You’ve known it would be yours, but you never thought of what it will cost.”

_So what is the cost?_

“You will hurt them. All of them. In ways you cannot yet imagine. But you’ve come here greedy for it and that is what you will receive. The cost will be just that: owning my power. And it _will_ cost you.”

I floated in the silence, realizing where I’d heard the voice—voices.

“Now you wonder if it’s the right choice. We both know it’s the only one you have. Just remember that it was you who came to me. You cannot come back. You cannot return this power once I have given it. It is yours.”

 _When?_ I asked.

“Now.”

+

I emerged from the cauldron as though something had thrown me out of it. I toppled onto the dais with a splash, soaking wet from head to toe. My dress and hair clung to me where I sprawled upon the stone floor gasping for air.

My eyelids peeled open and the first thing I saw was Rhysand laying lifeless in the middle of the room. I could tell from the way his open eyes stared off vacantly that he was gone.

Next I looked to my mate, resting in a large pool of almost-black blood. His eyes were closed, chest rising and falling as though he were in a deep slumber. Tamlin was still holding on. Barely. There was but a single vine wound between us. It dangled, threatening to break.

Some feet away Elias stood, watching me with a mix of intrigue and hysteria. He was shaking, the thrill of murdering the most powerful High Lord in Prythian heady within him.

I never took my eyes off him. My prey.

I slowly rose to my feet, finding the muscles inside me…different somehow. Leaner. Stronger.

“I like it.” Elias ate me up with his stare, grinning despite his limp broken arm and destroyed hand. “High Fae suits you.”

I said nothing, stepping towards him. The power hummed through me. Caressed my veins. It cascaded around my being and it felt…unmatched.

Elias tried to stop me. His childish lash of power struck at me, wanting to hold me still. Control my body.

It was my turn to smile. Sharp fangs grew out past my lips and I licked over them, loving the taste. The monster that had dragged me from my home took a step back. He was afraid now, realizing he couldn’t control me.

No one could.

Instead of closing our distance with two feet I decided to try out four. My body shifted and expanded, claws scraping the ground as I drew nearer. My fur was black as the cauldron water that made me.

Elias tried to take another step back but this time I stopped him. I froze him there like he had done to me times before. He struggled against it, ruby eyes dilating with terror.

When I reached him I rose to my hind legs, towering over his gaunt figure. With one paw upon his shoulder, I used the other to dig my sharp claws deep into his chest. Tears fell from his cowardly eyes as I dragged them down his torso. The blood that poured was even more beautiful than I’d imagined it. The gashes were so deep I’d ripped through a few ribs in the process. And he could not scream. He could not fight. He could only be still as I killed him.

If I had more time I would have used it creatively. Instead, I settled on sinking my claws into his skull to yank his head back before I buried my jaw in his neck and thrashed, severing it from his body. His ugly head dangled by a thread and I released my power holding him still. He fell to the stone with a pathetic thump.

Tamlin was still breathing. Rhysand was not.

I got rid of the animal form, kneeling before the High Lord of the Night Court. Now that I was close to him I could see the tendrils of darkness slipping through his veins, reaching further still. His power continued to fight against him. I ripped open his jacket and shirt underneath, surveying the damage. It was centered in his heart, a swirling spiderweb of blackness. It overshadowed his Illyrian tattoos, reaching far beyond them.

The darkness needed to be redirected. I placed my palms against his chest over his heart where it writhed. I coaxed it into me, coerced the raging power into my fingertips. I dragged it in. That darkness belonged to me now, too, so it could not refuse. It seeped into my hands like it recognized me, crawling home. Blackness stained my skin in vicious swirls and coils, reaching all the way up past my elbows. As I pulled away the poison that was Rhysand’s own power, I willed fresh air into his lungs. Pushed it past his parted lips and pounded it through his chest.

At his first seizing breath I cried out with relief, still keeping my hands steady as I leeched the last of the darkness from him. The violet slowly returned to his eyes, blinking slowly as they fell upon me. Taking in who I was. What I was doing.

The last of his power crawled through my arms, leaving their final whorls of blackened stain along my skin. I sat back and took in the sight, feeling the power buzzing dangerously inside my veins. It was channeled so directly I suddenly feared what it would do to me. In the haste of saving the High Lord I didn’t think of the consequence.

Rhysand sat up and stared at my blackened arms, eyes wide with worry. “You have to release it.”

“How?”

His mouth gaped. “I…I don’t know. I’ve never seen—”

I stood and turned toward Elias’s cold body. I took in a sharp breath and shot the darkness out of me and into him. It clawed as it left me, trying to stay. But it was not my power, it was Rhysand’s. And though I’d tricked it into me, it couldn’t remain. It was power gone bad. I started to scream as the pain mounted, feeling like a thousand talons dragging through my skin.

But I pushed through knowing I had to be rid of it. When the last tendrils left me I fell to the floor, weak and spent. I wondered if this was the first payment I had to make for my new power.

Rhysand put my arm over his shoulder and lifted me up, helping me over to Tamlin. We passed Elias’s body—now shriveled and blackened, burnt to a crisp. I collapsed over my mate, feeling his chest, touching his brow and cheek noticing the cold stickiness of it. So different from his usual warmth. “Tamlin. _Tamlin._ ” I breathed, reaching for the daggers sticking out of his shoulders. I yanked them out in a sharp movement, placing my hands immediately over the bubbling wounds.

“Faebane _and_ ashwood?” Rhysand inspected the blade coated in dark blood.

“Will he heal?” My voice broke as I asked.

Rhysand's usual demeanor was gone, replaced with something grave. “Not fast enough.”

“No, no, no…” I cried, still pressing down on the wounds as my head rested on his chest. “Tamlin, please. _Please._ ”

All the power in the world was worth nothing if I couldn’t save him.

“Get the other High Lords.” I begged, my voice hoarse. “Bring them here and make them heal him.”

The defeat on Rhysand’s features was worse than his words. “There isn’t enough time.”

“HELP ME, RHYSAND!” I screamed at him, tears pouring from my eyes. I could barely breathe, feeling the last vine between us start to crack. I was sobbing; heaving. I would die without him.

The High Lord of Night thought for a tense moment before finally offering up something. “Give him your blood. I don’t know if it will work, but try.”

A claw slid out between my fingers and I used it to cut the skin at my forearm.

“Deeper, or it will heal too fast.” Rhysand said with haste.

I dug the claw in and hardly felt the pain of it. I would have gladly ripped up my entire body if it would save him.

I forced the gushing wound to Tamlin’s lips, a stream of blood leaking down his cheek. I was begging, pleading, searching deep through the new power I had for something like life. Healing. I thought of health swimming through my blood. Thought of it reaching inside him and clotting his wounds.

Rhysand was right, before too long the gash begun to heal. So I cut a new one. Down into Tamlin’s throat my blood dripped, laced with love if not anything else.

Yet his heart went still.

A broken sound left me. My arm trembled where it pressed against his lips, cold and unfeeling.

No.

No.

Then a word, Tamlin’s voice, barely a whisper, came through the broken vine between us.

_Cold._

“C-cold?” I said through wet gasps. I looked down at my bloodied hands, knowing I could summon warmth. I was weak, the bulk of my power depleted, but warmth I would summon.

So I did. Willing the heat of a blazing hearth to surround him.

“She’s here,” Rhysand said suddenly.

I didn’t look away from Tamlin’s face as I warmed him. Spoke his name through our bond. Told him to stay. To wait. To hold on just a little longer.

“ _Feyre!_ ” Rhysand bellowed and running footsteps approached us. She dropped to her knees on the other side of Tamlin, eyes filled with shock and horror. He was not breathing. Had not been for some moments.

“Please,” I begged her. _Save him._

She did what I had done, ripping a fresh gash in her arm and placing the blood to his mouth. It hadn’t worked for me, but perhaps her power, her blood was different.

 _Follow the warmth._ I said in my softest voice, careful not to shake the bond as it dangled by a mere thread. _Come home to me. Be with me. Stay with me. I need you here._

Tears fell from Feyre’s closed eyes, dripping down her chin and onto his chest.

_Please, Tamlin. Don’t leave me. I won’t survive it. I need you. I love you._

_Evelyn._ Tamlin’s voice echoed to me from far away.

_Yes. Yes. I’m here. Follow the warmth._

He said my name again, this time closer. I held onto his body, held on to the bond.

_I love you. Stay with me._

Something rumbled beneath my hands. Tamlin’s chest rose and then fell, a great gust of air whooshing into his lungs.

“Tam—“ I cried, reaching to grasp his face as Feyre slowly pulled back.

My name fell from his blood-stained lips.

“I’m here, I’m here.” I kissed him, stroked him, finally feeling the warmth spreading under his skin. Feyre’s blood had clotted his wounds, the skin slowly working to patch itself together. To heal. 

Tamlin’s eyes fluttered open, blinking and focusing on me. To see the life in them, the brilliant emerald and gold, the recognition…

I trembled, tears still falling freely down my cheeks.

Although it must have hurt him to, he pulled me onto him, one hand wrapped tight around my waist, the other buried in my hair. He breathed me in, squeezing, before his hand brushed against my ear. Followed the pointed shape of it. “Eve…”

I pulled back. “I had no choice. The both of you were going to die. Actually, you both did.”

Feyre’s eyes darted to Rhysand. “What?”

Rhysand looked relieved as well as exhausted. “She brought me back.”

Then Feyre turned to me. “You saved my mate?”

“And you saved mine.”

If there was any animosity between us before, it blew away with the wind.

Tamlin sat up, pressing at where the daggers had been shoved into him, the wounds already healing over although the skin was still red and marred. His eyes fell upon his old love. “Thank you.”

She nodded silently. Feyre then pointed to the pile of black char in the middle of the throne room, “and who is that?”

“That…” Rhysand answered. “Is all that remains of a bad man after Evelyn had her way with him.”

Tamlin was inspecting me, the changes in my body. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I said. I’d expended all my power and energy, but I was okay. “I survived it.”

Something in Tamlin’s gaze told me that he didn’t believe me. After all, the cauldron would not give me power without a price.

Feyre, in her quick arrival and panic, had yet to notice that I had been turned. It dawned on her rapidly and she gasped. “You used the cauldron? What happened while you were inside? What power did it give you?”

“Feyre, Darling.” Rhysand purred. “Could we perhaps have this conversation a bit later? I would like to get the _fuck_ out of this mountain first.”

“Please,” Tamlin agreed, slowly rising to his feet.

“Lucien?” I breathed, something sharp lodging into my heart as I remembered how I’d seen him.

“He’s alive.” Tamlin answered and I let out a quiet moan of relief. “Hart stayed with him while I went after you.”

I needed to ask how he found me in the first place, but decided it could wait.

Tamlin and I were making our way to leave when I noticed Rhysand and Feyre staying back.

The cauldron.

“Do you need us to stay?” I asked.

Rhysand shook his head, maintaining a distance from it. “The rest of my inner circle are on their way. We’ll take care of it.”

“Where will it go?”

“The Night Court. As it seems I can’t trust it under anyone else’s care.”

I suddenly remembered the combination of voices I’d heard while I was deep in its blackened water.

“The both of you.” I said, looking between Feyre and her mate. “When you reforged it…I think a piece of you still lives inside.”

They blinked at this information, unsure how to process it.

Tamlin grabbed my hand, eagerly pulling me towards the exit. We could talk about it later.

For now, it was time to go home.


	14. Deal

I couldn’t stop the tears that formed when I found Lucien lying on a couch in the sitting room. I ran to him, throwing my arms around his frame and holding tight. My tears dripped right into his red coat and despite his surprise, he hugged me back.

“I thought you were dead.” I was shaking.

“So did I,” Lucien laughed lightly.

I pulled back to sit upon the edge of the couch and Lucien inspected me to see that I was okay. He slowly realized that I looked…different.

“Holy shit,” he breathed. “You… _what_ _happened_?”

“I went for a swim.” I answered, my clothes and hair still damp from the cauldron.

His russet eye darted to Tamlin standing at the doorway with his arms crossed. Something unspoken passed between them.

“She’s alive. That’s all that matters.” Tamlin said quietly.

“Are…are you alright?” Lucien asked me in a gentle voice. He had seen Elain and Nesta emerge from the cauldron.

“I’m fine.” I said, trying to will the confidence into my voice. The truth, however, was a little more complicated. My body was still adjusting to itself, to the immense amount of power now at its disposal. I felt it thrumming in me in a way that was a little…wild. Untamed. I suppressed it as best as I could for the time being, but I knew I’d have to deal with it eventually.

“Well…I’m glad you’re alive. And will be for a long time by the looks of it.”

I gave Lucien a small smile. He was prepared to give his life to save me. I knew I’d have to repay him for that some day.

Hart appeared at the doorway with a message for the High Lord. “The Night Court is here.”

“All of them?” Tamlin’s brow rose.

Hart’s silence was answer enough.

Tamlin released an exasperated breath. “Put them in the meeting room.”

Hart nodded and strolled off to escort our guests.

Lucien looked like he’d just seen Tamlin grow an extra head. “I am going to need someone to explain—“

“Later,” Tamlin grumbled.

+

The oval wooden table was just big enough to fit both Spring and Night. I sat at one end with Tamlin on my left and Lucien on my right. Directly across from me was the High Lord of the Night Court and beside him sat his High Lady, along with Cassian and Azriel. I didn’t ask where Amren and Mor were, assuming they’d stayed back to guard the Night Court and the cauldron.

Hart and another sentry stood by the door. There was a tense silence while everyone sized each other up before Rhysand finally spoke. “Thank you for hosting. I figured this would be easier than dragging you all to the Night Court.”

Tamlin said nothing in response, clearly uncomfortable but doing his best to remain neutral. I wanted to pat him for his efforts.

“So,” Rhysand folded his hands together. “I have a few questions.”

Lucien made a face that said, _you and me both._

“I’d like to know what happened when you went into the cauldron.”

Tamlin turned to me. “You don’t have to answer.”

I could see Feyre bristle slightly.

“It’s fine,” I said to my mate. Even if I had my qualms about Rhysand, I trusted him. If it weren’t for him, Tamlin would be… “I sank. For some time. Then a voice spoke to me, or rather a mix of two voices. Yours.” I eyed Rhysand and Feyre. “It said that it had been waiting for me. Knew I was coming. It told me that the power would be mine and the price would be just that. Having its power.” I swallowed, not wanting to say the next part. “It said that I’ll…hurt people. In ways I can't imagine.”

Rhysand’s lips pursed, not entirely happy with that piece of information. “And what power did it give you? Besides my own?”

Cassian’s eyes went wide. “She has your power?”

The High Lord of the Night Court nodded. “It’s how she saved me. Our friend Elias was harnessing the cauldron in a way that turned my own power against me. The harder I fought, the harder it destroyed me. I’d fallen dead just as I saw her dive in.” The image of his vacant eyes haunted me, even as I saw them glowing a vibrant amethyst now. “When I awoke she was redirecting the hell-bent power into herself instead.”

The current feeling inside me was similar to that moment. A dangerous humming. The power was itching to be set free. It felt like a tangled mess, every aspect of it fighting for my attention. I swallowed it back, straightening myself in the chair as Tamlin watched me with concern.

“So what else did the cauldron give you?” Rhysand said.

I stared down at the table, not seeing the intricate carvings within it. “I think it gave me…everything. It said it would.” Faces paled around the table. “I can transform. Into a…beast.” I avoided Tamlin’s eyes. “I can hold things, people, in place. I can control them. I can summon heat and fire I think. Ice; water too. Your shadows…” I looked to Azriel who watched me intently, expression as unreadable as ever. “I can hear them.”

This information broke the controlled visage he wore. Shock fluttered across his features and I heard the shadows whispering to him, _she’s telling the truth._

“Oh fuck.” Cassian said, not bothering to censor himself.

“Az?” Rhysand said, doing a decent job at masking his concern. His spymaster gave him a single look that confirmed it. “Well, that is…interesting. Anything else?”

Something told me Tamlin wouldn’t like what I said next. “Wings. And…there’s probably more I just don’t know yet. It’s…a lot.” It was overwhelming, if I was being honest. It was clawing at me like a monster in a cage begging to be let out.

_Evelyn._ Tamlin called me through the vines. He could see what was happening. Could feel it boiling up inside me.

I stared at a single carved leaf on the table, fearing that if I didn’t focus on one thing in particular I might rupture.

Rhysand was speaking but I couldn’t hear him, black water filling my ears instead.

“Evelyn!” Tamlin growled and I finally met his vehement eyes. “ _Go!_ ”

In the blink of an eye bright shields had slid into place around everyone at the table. I could easily break them if I wanted to. _Easily_.

But I didn’t want that. I didn’t want to hurt them. I pushed past the sentinels at the door, running as fast as I could. _Wait…wait…wait…_ I chanted to myself, clamping down on the mounting pressure. It was seeping through my hold and would come whether I let it or not.

I barely reached the steps that led out to the garden when I burst.

It came in the form of fire. Sweltering, billowing, an infernal blanket that surged from me. The release itself was heavenly—to finally let go—but terror flowed through me at the consequence. My eyes reflected the bright reds, oranges, and yellows as it poured out into the gorgeous gardens, swallowing up my favorite rows of roses.

“No,” I gasped, watching them turn from brilliant pinks and whites into black ash. I had to stop it, stop the fire from spreading. Water. I needed water.

There was a glistening fountain nearby so I reached from that and sent the water out in a vast wave to douse the burning. It was messy, but it worked and left the garden black and smelling of rose-tinged smoke.

I fell to my knees taking in the sight.

Our garden. Our roses. Destroyed.

And what would have happened if I didn’t leave when I did? I quivered at the thought, wrapping my arms around myself.

Tamlin appeared beside me, strong hand upon my back.

I watched the black roses and wondered if it was merely a glimpse into my future. The price for my power: uncontrollable destruction.

The cauldron gave me what I wanted. What I wished for. No longer could I be held down. No one could force me to do something I didn’t want to. I couldn’t be trapped against my will. I wished that no one control me and so, no one could.

Not even myself.

“It’s okay,” Tamlin cooed as he rubbed my back, knowing full well it wasn’t.

From the window in the meeting room they would have all seen it, too. Seen me break.

I dragged in a few shaky breaths, at least relieved that the pressure was gone. I didn’t know when it would return, but I was fine for the time being. When we returned to the meeting, I could feel weary eyes on me. The shields were down though, which was mildly comforting.

I took my seat and a deep breath before looking at them.

“I thought you were just merely tired of hearing me speak,” Rhysand drawled. “It’s a good thing your mate is more perceptive.”

“ _Mate_?” Cassian leaned forward to stare between the High Lord and I. He was clearly the only person at the table that didn’t know. “Wow…congrats, Tamlin.”

The High Lord ignored him.

“The good news is,” Rhysand continued. “Feyre here learned to master all of her new powers, so that bodes well for you. I’m sure she can help. We _all_ will help you, Evelyn.”

Because they wanted to, or because they were terrified of me…I didn’t know.

Feyre was watching Tamlin beside me as if waiting for him to object. Waiting to fight him over it. But he remained quiet, deep in thought. I could tell something wasn’t right, but I’d have to bring it up with him later.

“How did you find us?” Tamlin said suddenly to the High Lord of the Night Court.

Rhysand leaned back slightly in his chair. “Azriel’s spies saw you leaving the Day Court in a hurry. He followed you back to Spring and saw you head Under the Mountain.”

“You had spies on me?” My mate’s teeth bared.

“Yes.” Rhysand was unfazed. “Elias had said he’d be back, so I took his word for it and waited until he inevitably resurfaced.”

“You should have told me.”

“And risk the information getting back to our elusive friend? No.”

“So what do you want?” Tamlin’s temper finally made its appearance. “Now that you know Evelyn’s powers, I assume she’ll be spending three weeks a month at the Night Court from now on?”

Rhysand’s brow rose with satisfaction. Here was the argument he expected to have.

But Feyre responded first. “Or what? You plan to lock her up here too?” _Until she explodes?_ …Were the words she didn’t need to say.

Tamlin snarled, his eyes filled with fire as he glared at her. I could see the rage simmering between them, a quiet wind of darkness surrounding Feyre as she met his gaze. Despite saving each other’s lives, there was still a great deal of unfinished business between them.

“I wouldn’t have had to ‘lock you up’ if you didn’t insist on following me right into danger.”

Feyre grinned and it was anything but pleasant. “It wouldn’t have been dangerous if you’d let me master my powers.”

“That wasn’t the time to do so.”

“Bullshit.”

Lucien and I shared a look of dread, watching the argument unfold.

“You should be thanking me.” Tamlin spat. “If I didn’t keep you here against your will, your _mate_ wouldn’t have been able to sweep you off to his Court. So you’re welcome, Feyre.”

“I am thankful!” Her voice rose. “Thank you _tremendously_ for your inability to see that I was drowning right in front of you. How could I ever return the favor?”

I cut in, knowing a line was crossed. “Stop it, both of you.”

But she steamrolled over me, eyes boring into Lucien instead. “I hope you have the guts to do something about it next time.”

Shields went up when Tamlin’s sharp claws appeared, digging into the wood as he rose to his feet. “ _Get out_.”

No one moved and he let out an awful sound between a yell and a roar, claws scraping the mahogany.

_Tamlin._ I spoke down the vines, cool and calm. _It’s not worth it. She will always see it her way and you’ll see it yours. Don’t ruin this nice table over it._

He met my gaze, the fury and old hurt so intense I almost thought it was directed at me. He was panting, shaking from the rage. The wrong of it all.

_I would never trap you,_ his voice in my head was the saddest thing I’d ever heard.

_I know_ , I reached out to take his hand. Caress it. Coerce the claws back in.

Everyone waited with bated breath as he finally got control of himself.

“As lovely as Evelyn is, I have my mate.” Rhysand said simply. “There’s no reason for me to keep her in the Night Court unless she wants to be there.” Tamlin was still looking only at me—his point of stability. His calm. “That said, she will need to get her power under control—for her sake and everyone else’s—and we can help. I’m not being selfish this time, Tamlin.”

An admission of guilt. A small one. Perhaps the first Rhysand had ever made, would ever make.

He continued. “She can stay for a few hours, days, or weeks. We’ll adjust so that she’s not away from you for too long but still making progress.”

It was my turn to object. “No.”

Eyes around the table went wide with surprise.

“I’ll be trained in the Spring Court. You all can come here.”

Astonishment shuddered through the vines towards me.

“But the food is so much more delicious in Velaris,” Rhysand teased.

“There’s plenty of space for me to be trained here. I’m not going to leave Spring if I don’t have to.”

Tamlin couldn’t believe his ears, quiet pride taking over his features. I would never choose the Night Court over him. He knew that deep down, but it helped to hear it come from my mouth.

“Alright, we’ll come here.” The High Lord of the Night Court said, ignoring the looks of protest from his mate. They were clearly having an argument through their own bond, Rhysand squeezing her hand gently. “Under one condition.”

I braced myself for it.

“Once you are trained, should the Night Court fall under attack, you will fight for us as well as Spring.”

Tamlin opened his mouth to object but I beat him to it. “If this is a deal we’re negotiating, I have terms of my own.” Rhysand waved his hands to welcome them whilst I could feel Tamlin panicking beside me. “I’ll fight for you only if you swear not to undermine or overrule my High Lord. If you treat us as an ally and promise not to interfere with the regrowth of the Spring Court unless you’re helping.”

The High Lord was impressed by my demands.

“I’ll only protect the Night Court second to Spring. My Court comes first.” I knew I was pushing my luck, but I’d heard how thorough deals needed to be amongst High Fae bargains. No details could be spared. “And finally…I’ll agree if you bring Elain to Spring while I train and should she decide to stay on her own volition, you will allow it.”

“Absolutely not—“ Feyre laughed. Lucien’s scarred brow shot up at the request.

“Deal.” Rhysand said elegantly.

Feyre’s jaw dropped with disbelief, staring at her mate like she was about to strike him.

Lucien’s mouth similarly fell open. Azriel blinked rapidly and Cassian looked like he was watching the most interesting game of table tennis. Tamlin was still, internally inspecting the deal for loopholes and downsides.

The High Lord of the Night Court stood, evidently having gotten what he needed out of the meeting. “We’ll be in touch, then.” He said with a pleased smile.

Feyre was still glaring at him, utterly enraged. I imagined they’d be having a fun conversation back at the Night Court.

I followed the group out to the veranda where they began winnowing. Cassian, Azriel, and Feyre left immediately. Rhysand stayed behind a moment to speak to me.

“That amount of power has to breathe. If you keep it stifled, it will explode like you experienced earlier. It happens to me. Let it out little by little and you should be able to avoid a massive outburst.”

“How do I do that?”

“For me, small spells. Just use it whenever you can.”

I nodded, taking in the information. He was about to turn into a cloud of darkness but I stopped him for one last question. “Why did Feyre’s blood work, but not mine?” It was something weighing on me, my mind finding answers for it that I didn’t like.

“My theory is that my power was still in your blood, tainting it. If you have all of our powers then healing should be one of them. So that’s my guess.”

It made sense and I took that answer over the silly one my brain had concocted. That Feyre was somehow…more special to him. It couldn’t be true. I knew it wasn’t. But it helped to hear a more logical explanation anyways.

Rhysand placed his hands inside his pockets. “If I don’t see you again, just know that it’s because my mate has murdered me.”

I laughed lightly, watching him disappear in a blur of night.

Tamlin, who had not come out to watch them go, finally approached me. I couldn’t tell if he was angry with me or just exhausted from the whole day.

“You can…transform?” He asked curiously, eyes traveling over my body as if he could see the mechanics of it under my new High Fae skin.

I nodded. “Would you like to see?”

But he squeezed his lips into a fine line. “Maybe…later.”

I tried to repress the wave of disappointment that fell over me. I asked the cauldron to be able to turn into a beast not just so I could disembowel my enemies, but so that I could match Tamlin. Run alongside him through the forrest. I hoped that whatever bothered him about it would go away soon.

He saw my evident disappointment and laced a hand through mine, leading me towards the stairs. “Let’s get cleaned up.”


	15. Training

After a hot bath, scrubbing off all the soot and cauldron water off me, I was more than happy to slip into a pair of pajamas and crawl into the bed beside Tamlin. His embrace was warm and I had to shove down the memory of his cold and clammy skin I’d felt earlier.

As I’d taken a bath I tried to do what Rhysand said, letting off some steam. I manipulated the water, attempting to make whirlpools and control the waves of it. I splashed some on the floor as a result, but did feel some relief from it.

“You’re too quiet.” I commented as Tamlin’s breath tickled my hair. The air was thick with the thoughts he wasn’t saying.

“Today was just…a lot.”

“Believe me, I know. I was there.” I sighed. “I held your dead body in my hands, Tamlin. Whatever it is you’re trying not to say, please just spit it out.”

He battled with it.

So I sat up and faced him. “Is it Feyre?”

His brows furrowed. “What? No.”

“Is it that you liked me better as a human?”

“No…”

“Are you jealous that I saw Rhysand shirtless?”

He grimaced. “No, but now that you mention it—“

“Just tell me, Tamlin. We need to talk about this. If you really truly need time then I’ll deal with it and stew until you’re ready, but I’d much rather you just say what’s on your mind.”

The words were so soft. So quiet I barely heard them. “I couldn’t protect you.”

I stared at him, seeing the guilt wash over his delicate features. Saw the redness in his eyes that came with fresh tears. He tried to shake them away, squeezing his lips together. “I couldn’t—“

“Tam,” I grabbed his arm.

He gasped for air, covering his face with his hand to hide the flow of pained tears. “I couldn’t keep you safe. It’s my fault you went into the cauldron. I gave you no choice.”

I watched him cry, seeing not a High Lord, but a warrior who couldn’t stop the enemy from killing his Queen. And it wasn’t the first time this happened. The wound, the guilt was so deep I knew neither of us would ever see the bottom of it. He couldn’t protect Feyre. He couldn’t protect me. And it destroyed him.

I gently caressed his arm. “You’re not defined by who you protect. That was not your fault.”

But he continued to cry, soaking through the pillowcase. Part of me was at least grateful he released the emotion with tears and not by decimating the manor.

“Besides I…I’m glad it happened.”

He pulled his hand back, looking at me like I was talking nonsense.

“I wanted this power. I wanted to be eternal. I wanted to be able to rip out his throat. I might have even resented you if you’d done it for me.”

Tamlin’s tears finally ceased their flow and he stared.

“You don’t understand,” I gripped his hand between both of mine. “I needed to be able to fight back. A part of me thinks that might even be why the cauldron let him hurt you. To give me the chance to get to it.”

He clearly hated every word I was saying but I had to let it out anyway. “You…really think that?”

I kept my gaze focused on his rough hand. “It’s…just a feeling. The way the cauldron spoke to me it sounded like it knew me for a long time. Had heard me begging for power back when I needed it. Before I met you.”

Understanding slowly slipped over him. “So you’re not afraid? Of what it took?”

I rolled my shoulders back. “I know I should be, but, for now I’m not. I’m grateful. I killed him, I saved Rhysand…” I brought his hand to my cheek, needing to feel the warmth against me. “I couldn’t save you either.”

Tamlin frowned, “it was never your duty.”

I gave him a small smile. “And when exactly did you swear to protect me?”

“The day I met you.”

I softened, pressing a kiss into his palm. “You already saved me, Tamlin. You saved my life countless times over. You’ve saved me more times than not. Let’s choose to look at it that way instead?”

He wasn’t entirely placated. “We saved each other.”

I nodded. “There. We saved each other. Please don’t feel guilty over something you can’t change. There’s just no use and I hate the way it mars your handsome face.”

Tamlin repressed a smile.

“I love you,” I said against his skin.

“I love you,” he brushed my cheek.

“Alright, is there anything else?” I asked playfully. “Any other dark and terrible thoughts in that burly brain of yours?”

“Yes.” He admitted, grabbing and flipping me onto my stomach with ease. His body pressed flush against mine, the weight and warmth of him something delightful. Hot breath wafted into my ear as he spoke. “I have many thoughts, Evelyn, all dark and terrible.”

“Oh?” I meant for it to sound like a question, but it came out more like a moan as he ground his body against me.

Tamlin’s hands worked their way up and down my sides, my back, tangling in my hair and tugging gently until I gasped. He deftly removed my pajama bottoms, growling slightly at the lacy piece I wore beneath. I could feel his teeth scrape against my skin as he brought it between them, pulling down slowly. I raised my hips to assist, eager.

With the garment on the floor, Tamlin took his time squeezing and massaging my backside, giving it a little nip before nudging my legs apart. I wasn’t expecting his tongue, grasping the bedsheets as it slid down the middle of me. It teased at my entrance, slipping inside long enough for me to bark out a curse. “ _Damnit_ , Tamlin. Fuck me.”

His laugh was a sinful thing, tongue dancing along my crease for another moment before he pulled back. I was already soaking wet, giving him no resistance as he pushed his length deep inside me. The angle of it had me groaning against the mattress, arching my back up into him. “Fu— _ck_ ,” the word broke in my throat when Tamlin’s hand dove into my hair again and pulled as he thrust in hard.

All manner of words and sounds were falling from my lips, the sensation of him sliding inside me, up against the wall of nerves there, all of it utter ecstasy. It had me forgetting what we’d gone through that day. There was nothing else but our bodies, a perfect entanglement.

I inevitably came, a slave to the combination of friction against the bed and his hardness inside me. I spasmed around him, the pillow muffling my cries. Tamlin then flipped me over, placing a series of kisses along my chest as I came down from the high. He lingered at my breast, dragging my nipple between his teeth. I yelped when he bit too hard and he apologized with gentle licks.

It wasn’t long before he slid between my legs once again, seizing my mouth as he reentered me. I let out a strangled sound, extra sensitive from the previous orgasm, but the sensitivity only gave way to a familiar pleasure ready to take hold of me again.

Tamlin’s breath came fast, low moans in my ear my favorite drug. I clung to him, clawed at him, needing him closer. Harder.

Until he suddenly let out a cry of pain. And not the good kind.

“What?” I asked, terrified. I pulled my hands away from him only to see sharp claws and blood. My heart sank.

Tamlin hissed against me, lifting himself slightly.

“I’m so sorry.” I looked at the claws where they protruded from my hands, horrified at what his back must look like.

But the High Lord was not afraid.

“Here’s what we’ll do with these,” he grabbed my wrists and pinned them down on either side of my head.

His hips began to slowly roll into me again, only now I could see his face. I could see his hungry eyes half-shut, every stroke sending a wave of pleasure through him. Through me. I wanted to reach up and bite the strong neck above me, but he held me down. I didn’t mind, either.

There was only one man I’d let hold me down and it was my High Lord. The thought alone sent me over the edge again, my body tightening against him. He was the only man that could have all of me. My mate, who’s beautiful lips parted as uneven breaths passed through them. Who looked deep into my eyes as he came, every detail of the rapture written in them.

The vines between us were a colorful display, blooming brighter than they ever had before.

Tamlin kissed my lips tenderly before finally extracting himself from me and laying upon the bed. He relaxed and caught his breath while I went to the medicine cabinet for gauze and healing tape.

+

At breakfast Lucien made a point of not staring at me, which made it more obvious that he clearly wanted to and was refraining.

“Something on your mind, Emissary?” I asked after the third flicker of his golden eye.

He swallowed a bit of egg before replying. “You are…um…emanating.”

I hadn’t noticed, so focused on wolfing down the delicious meal, but he was right. A soft glow was rippling from my skin. I woke up feeling the need to release some power but felt I could make it through breakfast. Needed to, as I was starving. Yet it seemed if I couldn’t let off the steam of power, it would find its own path out of me.

I took in the glow, shrugged, and got back to my meal.

Tamlin was busy reading a letter from the Night Court. “They’re coming tomorrow.”

“One day of peace, then.” I said. “When will you go back to the Day Court for Bron?”

The High Lord’s lip pursed. “At some point.”

I rolled my eyes for Lucien’s benefit. “Elias is dead, Tamlin. Very dead. I don’t think he’ll be coming back for me anytime soon.”

“There could be others like him.”

“I’m sure there are. The world is full of crazy people. You can’t stay here forever because of it.”

“I’ll go when I feel comfortable doing so. And that wont be until I know your powers are under control and you’re safe.”

“So never, then.” I finished up the last bite on my plate with a wink. “Your Court needs you, Tamlin. I’m fine here. I’ll burn anyone that comes near me to a crisp.” I failed to include I might accidentally burn the entire building in the process, but felt the detail wasn’t necessary. Speaking of, the thrumming had increased enough that I made a point to hurry out.

Once outside I decided to use the build-up of power to water the gardens, shooting the fountain water over the land in a heavy mist. The scent and sight was rather pleasant, until I saw one of Tamlin’s sentries emerge from behind a tree soaking wet.

“Shit, sorry! I didn’t see you!”

He wiped the wetness from his forehead, “it’s fine.”

At least it hadn’t been fire.

+

Although it was a bit silly, I’d had the harp brought inside for peace of mind. It now sat in the gallery, surrounded by the most glorious paintings I’d ever seen. I enjoyed playing there, relishing in how the sound danced off the walls.

I was trying to remember all the notes to my song for Tamlin when I heard footsteps and Lucien took up a seat on the leather viewing couch nearby.

“I charge for performances.” I said, tilting my chin up with dignity.

He crossed one leg over his knee. “Does fighting for your life count for anything?”

I squinted. “Alright, you get one song.”

Lucien chuckled, leaning back with his hands laced behind his head as he listened. I messed up a great number of times, mildly nervous at having an audience even though his eyes were closed. But I did my best, trying to feel the notes rather than remember them.

When the piece was over I waggled my hands as if to say _ta-da_.

“It’s about Tamlin,” Lucien commented.

I gaped. “How could you tell?”

“It just…sounds like him. I can’t really describe it. You know he plays the fiddle, perhaps you two should start a band.”

My mouth fell further. “He has been hiding that piece of information from me?”

Lucien chuckled, “you didn’t hear it from me.”

A thought suddenly occurred. “How did Tamlin find me yesterday?”

“I told him.” Lucien replied, sitting up and straightening his coat. “Once I’d come to. I knew as soon as he broke into the manor and I could smell him. Under the Mountain has a very…particular smell.”

“It does.” I agreed, wishing I could get rid of the memory for all eternity. “Thank you, Lucien.”

He shrugged, “I was going to die either way. If not by that guy, then Tamlin. Didn’t want to go down without a fight.”

I let out a soft laugh. “You were amazing.”

A knowing silence fell between us.

“And thank you,” he finally said, sheepish. “For including Elain in your bargain.”

I smirked. “Of course. It was the least I could do.”

Something caught Lucien’s attention. “Where’s the tattoo?”

Ah. “I glamored it.” For his eyes only, I lifted the gentle spell that hid a black band wrapping around my ankle. It looked like someone had painted it, brush strokes sweeping off in various directions. “He doesn’t need to see it.”

Lucien nodded, zipping his lips shut. The glamor held two purposes actually, to keep the darkness out of Tamlin’s sight—I knew I was withholding the truth, but decided it was the greatest good for him to not see the Night Court branded on my skin—but also because holding the glamor in place alleviated some of the tension on my power. Kept it busy.

“So what’s your plan?” I asked intently.

“For…”

“For wooing Elain!”

He buried his face in his hand.

“Come on, Lucien. You’ll have the whole Spring Court to your advantage. Take her on a stroll through the grounds. You said she likes to garden? She’ll love it. Just don’t show her the roses.” Or lack thereof.

“I guess…”

“Take her to dinner in the village! That could be nice.”

“I don’t think Tamlin wants me wandering off all day Courting my mate.”

“Then I will deal with Tamlin. He’s not going to get in the way of this.”

Lucien bit back a pleased smile. He was excited, albeit repressing it.

“You need to wear your best outfit. I’d say green and gold, to match your eye and contrast the hair.”

“Now you’re just being ridiculous.”

“And pull it up out of your face,” I added. “Don’t let it fall over your eye. She needs to see all of you to really let the bond sink in.”

“So you’re an expert on mates, now?”

“I’ve at least had sex with mine.”

“Low blow.” Lucien’s brow crinkled. “And believe me, I know. I have to hear it every day and night.”

“Well, now you finally have a chance to get back at us. Make it count,” I winked.

+

When it came time for members of the Night Court to arrive the following morning, Tamlin suddenly remembered he had a pile of paperwork to take care of in his study. I merely gave him a kiss on the cheek and let him flee, which left Lucien and myself to welcome our guests.

I had a talk with the High Lord the previous night about letting Lucien off the hook for a bit whilst Elain was here. He grumbled about it, but I eventually convinced him. Then a somber look swept over him.

“What is it?” I’d asked, hoping he’d just tell me and not make me drag it out of him.

“I just…did you _want_ to go to the Night Court? For your training?” The High Lord was looking down at his shoes like a timid child.

I laughed, “no!”

“Alright. I just didn’t want you to have made that bargain on my behalf.”

“I didn’t. Tamlin,” I lifted his chin so we were eye to eye. “Spring is my home. I won’t leave it if I don’t have to. I’ve never felt trapped here and I never will.”

Compassion filled his eyes and he chose to express it through his body for some hours after.

So if he was willing to let Lucien have some time to woo his woman, I let him run off and be ‘busy’.

“Do we know who’s coming?” I asked the redhead where we stood at the entrance steps to the mansion, waiting for them to appear.

He shook his head. “The letter just said 9am.”

“Imagine, they all show up to torment me like at that dinner party.”

“I felt bad,” he admitted.

“Yeah, well, you didn’t do anything about it.”

“A fault of character I’m still dealing with.” He sighed and I knew he wasn’t referring to me.

“Is it wrong that I’m terrified to work with her?” I said sheepishly.

Lucien laughed, “you are rightfully afraid.”

As if on command, they appeared.

First Feyre and Elain.

Then Azriel and Nesta.

I knew it was Nesta only from the descriptions I’d heard of her. Cold. Beautiful. Ready to rip anyone’s head off.

Why she was there however…I had no idea.

“Welcome to Spring!” I said rather lamely, waving my hands. The nerves inside me shot from my fingertips in the form of sparks and singed the arm of Lucien’s nice jacket. He quickly patted away the burns, muttering a slew of curse words.

It seemed neither of us were going to win today.

“Shit, sorry. I’ll get it fixed.” I beat myself up mentally, trying to help him pat the smoking holes on his jacket. My only consolation was the shadow that whispered a single word into Azriel’s ear: _cute_.

Though his face was stone, he seemed to remember that I could hear because the shadows quickly disappeared.

“I’m Evelyn,” I approached Nesta with my hand outstretched. She backed away from it and perhaps rightfully so. “Sorry, good point. Better not.”

“Nesta wouldn’t let Elain go without her, so this is the compromise to the bargain.” Feyre said rather exasperatedly. I wondered what sort of arguments they all endured on my behalf.

The good news was that Elain was looking at Lucien. Taking in the sight of him. “That’s a nice jacket,” she commented innocently.

I bit back my smile, watching as Lucien tugged at the cuffs of it before bowing in thanks.

“You said there’s a library?” Nesta spoke to Feyre.

“Yes, I can show you—“ I began to offer but she cut me off.

“I’ll find it on my own. Come, Elain.” She wrapped an arm around her sister and dragged her past us into the manor. Lucien and I shared a blank look as we watched them go.

“Shall we get started, then?” Feyre asked once Azriel winnowed back to the Night Court, somewhat impatient as she began walking around the building instead of through it.

I ran to catch up with her brisk pace and mouthed the words ‘nice jacket’ to Lucien, laughing silently when he flipped me off.

+

There was a secluded square of gravel and a small fountain surrounded by tall bulbous bushes off in one corner of the gardens. Feyre brought me there to begin my training. I wondered how it must feel for her to be back at the mansion. What memories it brought forward.

I looked at the bands around her hips and thighs filled with various knives, mildly intimidated. She was taller than me by a few inches and clearly stronger. While I might have more power, she actually knew how to use hers and therefore I didn’t stand a chance against her.

I didn’t know why I was suddenly making all sorts of comparisons in my mind. We weren’t in competition.

“First things first,” she began. “What _can_ you control?”

I started to explain the various facets of power I’d experimented with, how some obeyed and some didn’t. She listened carefully and I tried my best to look her in the eye, but found my gaze often dropping away from the piercing coal-blue.

When I finished she said, “that’s impressive. I didn’t have that much control after I was made.”

I shrugged.

“Alright, well, you have Tamlin to help you with transforming, Lucien can teach you fire, Rhysand will cover his own power, and Cassian or Azriel will teach you to fly. So I’ll teach you how to use the powers they all don’t have.”

“Sounds good,” I nodded, fingers fidgeting at my sides awkwardly.

Feyre could tell I was on edge and she released a light sigh. “I’m sorry. For what I said yesterday.”

“It’s okay, you were talking to Tamlin, not me.”

“Right, but…I was acting like you were me. And you’re not.”

I clearly wasn’t. Almost everything about our physical traits was different. The only thing we seemed to share was bra-cup size. Not that I’d looked too closely.

Alright maybe I did.

“I don’t know how much you know about…what happened. Obviously it’s over now, but some wounds just take longer to heal than others.”

“I know,” I said softly. “I’ve been patching him up for weeks.”

An air of guilt passed over her features. “You must not like me very much.”

I laughed, unable to stop it. I figured we were going to be spending plenty of time together anyway, I might as well give her the truth. “You are the woman that my mate loved so deeply it completely destroyed him. I came along and fell in love with the broken pieces of him I found in your wake. To be honest, Feyre, I’m terrified of you.”

Her face fell, both surprised and saddened by what I’d said. “I don’t want that.” She frowned further, “I don’t want you feeling that way.”

I gave a tight-lipped smile. “I think everything happens for a reason. I think you were meant to destroy him and I was meant to put him back together. Perhaps I was meant to have this power and you were meant to teach me to control it, and somewhere in the process we might all heal.”

Little stars sparkled in her eyes in a way that reminded me of her mate. “Perhaps.”

“So where do we start, then?” I gave her a smile which she happily returned.

+

Training was work. Tiresome, frustrating, grueling.

Feyre made the point that I needed to learn to control at the smaller levels. That’s where it counted. Then once I worked up to wielding larger amounts of power, the foundation was already set. The technique in place. So we began with water, making small shapes and animals with it.

When the front of my shirt was completely soaked through, we played with light. Trying to harness it in a single location as opposed to a sweeping glow. After that, she put up shields and had me break them, not with explosive force—though I did that a few times on accident—but by creating a small fissure I could squeeze my power into.

One of the attendees of my Tamlin-forgiveness party had volunteered to become a servant for the manor. Her name was Juleen—a green Fae—and she brought Feyre and I a tray of snacks and fresh iced tea.

As we took a break and snacked, Feyre looked to me curiously. “Did you get any daemati powers?”

“I’m not sure,” I said truthfully. “What would it feel like?”

“Like…you could slip into people’s minds.”

“I haven’t tried.” I mused upon how it would make it so much easier to find out what was bothering Tamlin when he got in one of his moods.

“Give it a go.” She encouraged, stuffing a slice of bread and cheese into her mouth.

“…Are you sure?” I was hesitant. I knew how much I loathed the sensation when Rhysand had done it to me.

She nodded.

So I tried. I reached in, feeling around for her mind. All I found was an impenetrable black mass. Then I realized that was merely her shield and surely there had to be a way past it. I dug into it with my claws, finding that while the wall stretched as far as I could see, it wasn’t all that thick. I could slip through a crack I made with a single claw and get inside.

I was about to make it past, a flash of color on the other side, when she shoved me out with a heavy force of blackness.

I was stunned, blinking at her pretty eyes.

“So you can,” she stated.

“I guess so.” I downed the glass of iced tea.

“Well, I’ll add that to Rhysand’s list.” I couldn’t withhold my grimace and she noticed. “What?”

“Oh, I’m just not looking forward to training with him is all.”

“Why not? He’s the most powerful High Lord alive. You’ll learn a lot.”

I tried to phrase my response as objectively as I could. “He’s just…”

“A bit of a prick, I know.” She sighed, “and yet he’s the most incredible man I’ve ever met.”

I popped a few grapes into my mouth. “He’s definitely _something_.”

Feyre cackled, enjoying my fresh take on her mate. I could see Rhysand’s charms no doubt, but they just didn’t have the same effect on me. “Why do I get the feeling he’s training me for…something. Like he knows a battle is coming and struck up that bargain in preparation.”

She went still before answering. “Rhys likes to be three steps ahead of everyone. It’s infuriating most of the time, but it usually pays off. I don’t know any more than you do, but I had similar suspicions when he brought it up. He rarely does something like that without reason.”

So my hunch was correct. I tried not to think about what Rhysand knew and wasn’t saying, though it would inevitably haunt me until I found out. Maybe I could become a good enough daemati that I could slip into his mind and see what secrets _he_ kept.

I had to withhold a wicked smile at the thought.

+

When the sun fell and I was more mentally drained than words could describe, Feyre decided to end our training there. At some point in the afternoon Nesta and Elain had come out from the manor to read at a nearby bench. I could only imagine Lucien’s disappointment as he busied himself with things and glanced longingly out the window at them.

Feyre winnowed Elain back first, which left Nesta and myself standing together awkwardly.

“Did you have a nice time?” I asked, trying to be as pleasant as possible.

“It was fine.”

I nodded, lacing my fingers together. “Is there a chance Elain could come back on her own next time?” I knew the question was rude, but there was also no use in upholding pretenses. “She’s in no danger here.”

Nesta looked away from me as though anything in the world was more interesting. “I’ll think about it.”

I wanted to snort. Concluding her response was better than a flat out no, I decided to continue the conversation. “So, any interest in swapping cauldron stories?”

She glared at me like an angry cat ready to swipe. “I don’t think we went into the same cauldron.”

Technically, she was right. It had been reforged when I went for a swim. I grew even more curious to know what it was like for her. But the upturn of her nose told me there was a fat chance she’d sit around the fire to tell me about it.

Feyre returned to take Nesta with her back to Velaris. Before they winnowed she said, “Rhysand is coming tomorrow, same time.”

I took a deep breath. “Lucky me.”

They disappeared, the ghost of laughter in their wake.  
  


+

“Oh, LUCIEN…” I called through the manor. The redhead stepped out of the sitting room. “I have good news.”

He waited silently.

“Nesta said she _might_ consider letting Elain come back alone next time.”

His face filled with surprise. “That _is_ good news. For Nesta, that’s tremendous.”

Tamlin’s voice boomed from the second floor. “Is everyone gone?”

“Yes, My Love. The coast is clear, you may now re-inhabit your own home.”

Lucien chuckled while the High Lord happily made his way down the stairs.

“I wasn’t hiding.”

I patted him on the shoulder, sweeping back a lock of his golden hair. “Of course not. You know what you _were_ hiding though?”

Tamlin’s brows furrowed suspiciously.

“The fact that you play the fiddle.”


	16. Wings

I slept deeper than I had in years.

Tamlin was still in bed when I awoke—a rarity—and I happily nuzzled into him. He embraced me, letting out a tired sound as he stretched and then relaxed. His bare skin smelled so good, waking up to it made me want to eat him for breakfast.

Then I remembered what I had to do in an hour and groaned. “I don’t want to train with the High Lord of Darkness.”

“You don’t have to.” Tamlin’s voice was especially husky, already ready to protect me from him.

“I do.” I yawned. “And I will. I just don’t _want_ to.”

Tamlin’s light laugh wafted over the top of my head and his arms squeezed. “You shouldn’t talk dirty to me right now. I might just not let you go at all.”

I lifted up the sheets and sure enough, the High Lord was wide awake from the waist down.

I looked up at him with a mischievous grin. “I could think of nothing better than to make Rhysand wait outside while I pleasure you.”

Tamlin’s mouth parted slightly and I thought he might climax from my words alone.

+

I only left the High Lord of the Night Court waiting a couple extra minutes, dashing through the mansion to scarf down my second breakfast. I brought a piece of buttered toast with me to the front door where Rhysand hit the knocker for the third time.

I opened it to find him in a fresh-pressed suit of night, with Elain at his side in a pretty white dress.

No Nesta.

I beamed. “Come on in…”

Tamlin was still in bed, falling back asleep after I skillfully saw to his needs. Lucien was finishing up his breakfast, eyes wide when he spotted his mate. He hadn’t expected Nesta to let her come alone, at least not the very next day. I tried not to roll my eyes at him as he fumbled with a napkin.

“Lucien, could you keep Elain company while we train?”

He nodded, swallowing a gulp of water so he didn’t choke on his eggs. Elain seemed used to people just hauling her around and telling her what to do so she didn’t object, going to sit at the dining table while Lucien finished his breakfast.

Rhysand released a knowing sigh, walking with me through the hall. “I remember that feeling. It’s so…nerve-racking when they haven’t accepted the bond yet. You feel like your whole life is teetering on the edge of a sword. Speaking of mates, where is the great beast? I expected to find him snarling at me as soon as I entered.”

“He’s sleeping.”

At the tone of my voice Rhysand seemed to have a suspicion as to why he’d been kept waiting. He chose not to comment on it, merely giving me a sly look.

“Outdoor or in?” I asked, hands on my hips.

“Out,” Rhysand replied. He led us to the gazebo, sitting casually upon the white marble bench. I stood before him and waited patiently for instruction.

His eyes merely travelled across the gardens and the grounds. Birds were singing, the breeze delectable as ever as it brushed by the ends of his hair. Everything bloomed—sans the roses—and water had returned to the fountain nearby after I’d used it to extinguish my outburst.

“I do see why you like it here. Of course I’m biased towards my own Court, but Spring has its charms.”

I changed the subject. “When you made the bargain with me, was there a specific reason? Are you expecting a war sometime soon?”

“Let’s hope not.” Rhysand grinned wickedly and I knew I wasn’t going to be getting an answer to the question. He looked down at my ankle where I’d glamored the evidence of said bargain. “For Tamlin’s sake?”

I didn’t deign a response.

“How sweet of you, to not wish to rub old wounds in his face.”

“Are we going to get on with the training sometime soon?”

“Yes. But first,” The High Lord of the Night Court pulled something out from the inside pocket of his jacket. “A gift.”

My brows came together in confusion as he unwrapped a ring from a piece of silk. The band was thick onyx, the large stone a glorious swirling violet. It was similar to his eyes, but the stone seemed deeper somehow. Darker.

“I can’t accept that.” I said simply, despite the strong desire to reach out and slip it on. “What is wrong with you?”

Rhysand laughed almost maniacally. “It’s not a token of my affections, Evelyn.”

I looked at him like the psychopath he was. “You’re mentally ill.”

“I can’t argue that.” He held the ring out further, letting it twinkle as he turned it. “But no, it’s not a fancy piece of jewelry to get under your mate’s skin, or a symbol of our blossoming friendship. It’s a siphon.”

I inspected the nature of the stone, realizing I’d seen similar ones upon Cassian and Azriel, built into their fighting leathers. Only theirs were different colors.

“I have a theory,” he stared at the brilliant purple stone. “That it could help you with harnessing your power. Keeping it honed, controlled, focused.”

I hesitantly reached out for it, feeling the cold band between my fingers. I turned it over in my hands and threw a ridiculous glance up at the manor to make sure Tamlin wasn’t spying from the windows before I slipped it on the middle finger of my right hand. It settled and I realized the onyx was cut out underneath so the stone could rest flush against my skin. As soon as it did so, my power immediately went to it, as if it recognized the gem—finding a home within it. It glowed slightly, full to the brim with ability.

I met Rhysand’s pleased eyes and couldn’t withhold a small scowl. “He’s going to be furious.”

The High Lord shrugged.

“Did you have to make it into a _ring_?”

“You don’t like it?” He asked.

“It’s not that,” I rolled my eyes. “I should have added not-bullying Tamlin into our bargain.”

“I wouldn’t have agreed,” Rhysand crossed one leg over the other. “It brings me too much joy.” He merely smiled at my annoyed glare. “ _Now_ we can begin training. You’ve been letting off steam like I warned you to?”

I nodded, admiring the stone.

“Feyre showed what you two went over yesterday. It looks like you made good progress. She likes you, by the way.”

My brows rose at that. “Does she?”

“The two of you are similar. In different ways.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Never mind, then.” He patted the spot next to him. “Why don’t you sit down, we’re going to be here for a while.”

I wanted as much distance between myself and the High Lord as possible, but there were no other seats so I reluctantly obliged.

“She also said that you broke past her mental shield.”

“It wasn’t very thick.”

Rhysand’s eyes went wide before he let out a laugh. “Interesting. Let’s see if you can get past mine.”

Aha. My opportunity had come at last.

I didn’t hesitate at all, diving in.

I was first met with a black wall that stretched on as far as the mind’s eye could see. It was much denser than Feyre’s, as if made of onyx itself. Shiny and utterly impenetrable. I dug my claws against it, finding they only bounced off. He certainly knew how to protect his mind. I found it admirable and daunting, the solidity of it.

But there had to be way in…and it suddenly struck me like a bolt of lightening. Rhysand had his shield up against me, but not Feyre. Perhaps I could trick him into thinking I was her. I summoned her voice within my head, sent it slipping along the blackness in a gentle caress. Had her saying, _I miss you, when will you be back?_

To my surprise, it worked. He acknowledged the voice through the tiniest sliver. _Tonight,_ he’d purred. I latched onto the brief opening, throwing myself inside it.

And then I was in Rhysand’s mind.

There was a flash of images, hard to discern at first. It took a second to understand how he thought. The way his mind pieced together all relevances and calculated like a great machine. There were pictures of his inner circle, discussing mundane matters in the House of Wind. Pictures of Feyre, beckoning from the bed with the sheets barely covering her. I suspected that was from this morning and why he’d responded so well to my impersonation.

But none of that was interesting to me. Now that I was inside his mind, I wanted to find a secret. Like one he’d stolen from me. It was only fair.

So I dug. Raked through treasure troves of memories, many loaded with significances I’d never understand. But bright flashes of red caught my eye. I lingered there, letting a particular memory play through.

I—or rather, Rhysand—laid upon black satin bedsheets as a woman writhed atop him. Her hair was so vibrantly red, her lips the same color where they curled over pearlescent teeth. She ground into him violently, not caring that it hurt. Not caring that the tips of her sharp nails drew blood across his chest. He wanted to kill her. In fact it was the only thought that kept him hard. Which he needed to be, or else…

I knew I’d seen too much. Gone too far. I quickly slipped out of his mind.

Rhysand’s breathing was shallow, his normally impeccable posture hunched slightly. He stared at me with a mix of fear and violent rage. I couldn’t be sure if it was directed at me or the memory. Probably both.

“I’m sorry.” My voice came out small, barely a whisper.

He ran a shaky hand through his black hair, trying to calm himself. “I guess I asked for that.”

He really did. But that didn’t make me feel any better about it. I suddenly saw the High Lord of the Night Court a little differently. He was not all snark and dark power. He’d been forced to endure things no one could understand or fathom unless they saw it like I had. And that was just one red memory. There were thousands.

I found tears forming at my eyes. “What a _bitch_ ,” I said as they fell.

Rhysand let out a humorless laugh. “She was much, much worse than that. But yes.”

I wanted to reach out for him. Hug him. Tell him it was over. I hated myself for bringing that memory to the foreground of his mind. He must have spent ages trying to hold it back. Hold them all back. The red stuck out like a sore thumb in his collection of memories, filled with the most anguish and torture.

I was an asshole.

“I have similar memories.” I admitted. “If you’d gone back any earlier at the Spring Court party, you would have seen them.”

Rhysand nodded, finally understanding. “Now it makes sense why you reacted so terribly.”

“I’m truly sorry, Rhysand. That…was wrong of me.”

He straightened himself, settling back into his usual demeanor. “Well, in case you were wondering what I look like naked, now you know.”

I felt heat rise up to my cheeks. I hadn’t been focused on that part of the memory. “I wasn’t.”

He smirked all-too confidently and I thought about transforming and running off into the hills. “Regardless, that was extremely impressive. Her voice was you, correct?”

I nodded.

Something like wonder shone in his eyes. “Genius. Though it won’t always work if you don’t know someone as well as you know me—that I’m a slave to the sound of my mate’s voice. Now, we can play a game if you like?”

I was already grimacing, knowing I wouldn’t like it one bit. “What game?”

“Seeing if you can keep me out of your mind.”

“That’s not fair at all.“

“Is it not? If you could get into mine—which almost no one can, mind you—I’d say we’re worthy opponents.”

“Why do I feel like you get off on that concept.” I hadn’t intended to say the thought, but he’d probably find it in my mind soon anyway.

It surprised him and he took a moment to think. “Perhaps I do. Being the most powerful High Lord to exist for hundreds of years is rewarding in many ways. It’s satisfying to know I can’t be taken down with power alone; there must be ashwood or faebane involved to weaken me. But the thought of someone potentially stronger, and not actively trying to murder me, is…thrilling. A welcome challenge.”

“Elias was stronger with power alone.” I mentioned, remembering the High Lord’s body upon the floor, drained of color.

“True, he was harnessing the cauldron directly, which is what you are made of now. So you, and anyone who uses the cauldron properly, can defeat me. But that’s it.”

“He was so powerful,” I shuddered at the memory. Of my body totally under someone else’s control. Of how easily he destroyed two High Lords.

“And so are you,” Rhysand said gently. “So come on, let’s play.”

I heaved an exasperated sigh before giving a begrudging nod.

He was right there, ready and waiting to rip through the thick mass of vines I’d layered as a shield. I made them impossibly dense, he’d be hacking for hours before making it through.

Or so I thought. Rhysand’s talons were so sharp they sliced like a knife going through butter. I had to come up with something to reinforce the wall or he’d be inside my mind any second—

I wasn’t fast enough.

Images started to swirl, running back through our conversation, back to his arrival, back to breakfast, back to _I could think of nothing better than to make Rhysand wait outside while I pleasure you._

The High Lord of the Night Court pulled out of my mind with a smug grin. “Thought so.”

I ground my teeth together furiously, not knowing how to explain myself.

“It’s alright, I’m sure Tamlin could use the coddling. A bit rude, but I forgive you.”

I wanted to yell at him for trespassing, but who was I to talk? “What do you do when you go into Feyre’s mind and see her memories with him?”

“I try not to gouge my eyes out,” Rhysand replied simply.

I nodded, “I think I’d die.”

“You’d be surprised what we can endure. I thought fifty years of mental and physical torture would be enough to do me in. Yet here I sit, ever the perfect man.”

“You’d be perfect if you were _humble_.”

“So you admit I’m close?”

I didn’t deign a response, merely stared as I tried to figure out what was wrong with him.

“Alright,” he laughed. “I got carried away. Shall we try again?”

“No,” I said sternly. “There’s no point. I don’t know how else to bolster my shield.”

He pondered it for a second. “I sense there’s a significance to the vines, so let’s stay in-theme. How about…marble. As thick as the walls of the manor.”

I could do that. A bright, towering wall of smooth marble, but just rough enough…

“Go ahead.” I said, ready.

Rhysand approached the wall, searching for cracks before trying to scrape through it. But as his talons dragged, they were sanded and filed down. Useless.

I grinned with satisfaction.

Then I heard Tamlin’s worried voice through our bond, muffled from the wall. _What is he doing to you?_ He asked, alarmed.

Right as I was answering, I realized all too late that the voice was not Tamlin at all.

The High Lord didn’t seem eager to stay long inside my mind, merely perusing over my training with Feyre. Until he remembered something he _did_ want to see, images racing through my mind in a way that was dizzying and sickening. Into the black water of the cauldron I went, the strange mix of voices caressing me. Warning me. And then I was soaking wet on the throne room floor, the fury of a thousand suns raging within me as I approached Elias. Ripped him open and severed his head from his body.

Rhysand retreated with a pleased sigh. “Forgive me. I wanted to see him die.”

I was going to be sick.

I scrambled to a nearby bush, releasing the contents of my breakfast.

“Not pregnant, are we?” Rhysand asked and I flipped him off, retching until it was over.

Seeing the atrocious murder I’d committed—despite how deserved it was—shook me. I hadn’t really thought about it since it happened. I was busy with my new power and trying to control it. But there was _so_ much blood. I’d ripped a man open. I—

I puked again.

“Goodness,” Rhysand commented.

I was clutching the grass for dear life, looking at the shimmering siphon on my finger and wishing I could use it to erase the memory entirely. The horror of what I’d done.

“I’ll be back.” I said, heading for the mansion to rinse out my mouth. On my way to the bathroom I passed Lucien and Elain in the sitting room together. They rested in separate chairs, eyes on their own books. Terribly dull. But I supposed it was the fact they were near each other that mattered. I hoped he would pluck up the courage to take her on a romantic walk like I suggested, but in the meantime I was just relieved Nesta wasn’t there.

Tamlin was awake and getting dressed when I entered the room.

“That was quick.” He stated as I swiftly passed him to go rinse my mouth.

“Oh, we’ve only started.” I gargled.

“Is…everything okay?”

“Peachy.”

“What did he do to you?” Tamlin’s voice echoed the one Rhysand had concocted in my head.

“He’s teaching me to protect my mind.”

The High Lord approached, looking me up and down as if I’d have injuries on display from one hour of working with Rhysand. “What is that.”

I could see his eyes on my hand within the mirror and it was clear the High Lord was trying suppress all manner of accusations and emotions.

“It’s a siphon.” I held it up to his face. “For directing my power. The Illyrians use them.”

Tamlin’s claws had already slid out beyond his control. “He gave it to you.”

“Relax, Tamlin, he’s not trying to make me High Lady of the Night Court. It’s merely a tool for harnessing my power. That’s it.”

“It’s a _ring_ , Evelyn.”

“I am begging you not to read into it. Please. He has a mate and so do I.” I gave him a kiss on the cheek before heading out of the room. “If you feel so intimidated by it, you’re welcome to get me one with a larger stone.” I winked playfully at his stern face, knowing I hadn’t heard the end of it.

Rhysand was wandering the garden patiently when I reappeared. I scowled and he laughed, realizing what conversation I just had to have.

“Teach me how to use this thing so I can prove it’s not a showpiece.”

“I would, but siphons aren’t my area of expertise. I’ll leave that to my brothers.”

I rolled my eyes. “What are we learning then? I’ve had enough daemati practice for the day.”

“A great many things.” Rhysand smirked and I was suddenly enveloped in a cloud of darkness.

+

By the end of the day I was again mentally drained. We spent hours conjuring and harnessing shadows and darkness. Then he began teaching me the basics of winnowing, which was terribly disorienting. Come nightfall I was a dizzy mess and begging the High Lord of the Night Court to let me rest.

He was going to retrieve Elain when we heard her and Lucien in the dining room eating dinner together. I grabbed his arm and pulled him back, shaking my head. Instead we went to the sitting room until they were done.

Elain’s soft laugh echoed through the hall and the High Lord and I shared a satisfied grin.

“She must be falling for him because I refuse to believe he said anything funny,” Rhysand commented.

“You are awful. Lucien is funnier than you.”

“Lies. You know what is funny, though? The stories I’ve heard of what a raging bachelor he was before meeting Elain. The fox had slept with half the Spring Court. Yet he finds his mate and suddenly is incapable of speaking to her.”

“Men.”

Speaking of, Tamlin appeared in the doorway. “Training is over, then?”

I nodded. “We’re just waiting for Lucien and Elain to finish—“

“Lucien!” Tamlin barked. “Elain’s escort is ready for her.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose.

Rhysand stood. “It’s alright, he’ll have another chance tomorrow. I’m sending Cassian to teach you how to fight. And fly.” He gave Tamlin a wicked smirk before stepping past him. I could almost see the hairs raise on my mate’s neck.

I threw the words ‘you’re an ass’ at the black wall protecting his mind, hoping he heard them.

+

Mor winnowed in Cassian and Elain at dawn.

The Illyrian warrior carried over his shoulder a sling of knives, similar to the ones at his belt. From his grin I knew I was going to have a harder day than the previous two. I gulped.

Lucien had business with Tamlin, so I gestured for Elain to make herself at home and do whatever she saw fit. Cassian then followed me to the veranda.

“I hope you’re well rested.” He grunted as he began stretching. Something told me it was a matter of minutes before his shirt came off.

“Well enough,” I stood perfectly still.

“I’d warm up if I were you, we’re going over a lot of basic movement today. Don’t want to pull a muscle.”

“Fairly sure that’s inevitable…” I mumbled, following his movements anyway.

The lesson with Cassian ended up being almost like a crash course of…well, everything. The very basics of combat. The basics of harnessing the siphon. The basics of conjuring wings—which I discovered mine were in fact golden and feathered…not black and fleshy. Cassian’s expression when they sprouted from my back was priceless.

“You got Rhysand’s power but not his wings. Interesting.” He inspected them, trailing a hand through the feathers which I quickly found out were extremely sensitive. I couldn’t repress a shudder and he pulled his hand back with a low chuckle. “Same principle’s apply, though.”

We trained late into the evening, until I could no longer stand. I simply laid against the cool veranda tile on my side, wings splayed out behind me. The effort it took to keep them lifted off the ground, after all the lunging, ducking, and swiping I’d done earlier, was simply too much. Every muscle in my body screamed at me whenever I tried to move. So I didn’t.

I vacantly stared off into space, wondering if I could winnow myself into bed and thusly avoid walking up the stairs.

“Alright, I guess that concludes today’s lesson,” Cassian slung the knives over his shoulder. “You did well.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Why…so much.”

“So much what?” He bent down to hear me better, amused.

“So much training. Is there a war next week?”

He laughed, “I hope not.”

“Why is he doing this to me,” I groaned.

“Rhysand? There may not be a war but he has his reasons for training you quickly.”

“And you won’t tell me what they are.” I closed my eyes instead of rolling them.

“Here, I’ll help you up.” He went to grab me but I protested.

“It’s fine. I’ll get up in a bit.”

The Illyrian shrugged. “Alright, time to take Miss Archeron away from her mate then. I’ll see you same time tomorrow.”

“Absolutely not,” I said sternly. “I’m taking tomorrow off. If you show up here I’ll unleash my full power upon you.”

“I’d like to see that, actually.” He grinned, unfazed.

“I’m taking tomorrow off. Tell Rhysand to deal with it.”

Cassian thankfully decided to let it go, grabbing Elain before Mor winnowed them home.

I laid there for a few quiet minutes, deciding I would try to winnow upstairs to the bed. It wasn’t that far, I could probably manage it.

I cleared my head, envisioned the welcoming bed and…

Landed in the middle of the stairs. I groaned loudly, sliding down a few with zero grace.

Tamlin appeared in a heartbeat. “Eve,” he breathed with worry, picking me up into his arms to carry me up the stairs.

“Ah! Wings!” I yelped as they dragged painfully below me, Tamlin not aware of the sensitivity they carried in each feather.

“Shit, sorry…” He lifted me up higher, trying to suppress his surprise and wonder that they existed. He brought me to our bed like a fallen angel and laid me down on my side with extreme care. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m just sore. Too sore.” I could only hope my new Fae body would recover faster than my old human one would or I’d be in bed for a week.

“They’re…” Tamlin’s eyes raked over the mass of heavy bones and golden feathers. “Not black.”

No, they weren’t. The truth was I knew I had a choice inside the cauldron. As I gathered my slew of new powers, flight was of course included. While menacing and efficient the Illyrian wings were, I wanted something to set me apart from them. Mainly for Tamlin’s sake. I wanted something more…Spring. So I asked for them to be a glorious gold, not unlike the color that circled the green in his eyes.

“No,” I said. “They’re not.”

Clearly curious, the High Lord sat upon the bed behind me. “May I?”

I nodded, “just be gentle.”

“I can do that.” Tamlin’s voice was as soft as his touch, lightly trailing over the biggest bone where it sprung from my back. It sent a wave of pleasant chills over my body and I sighed, for a moment forgetting how much everything hurt. “That’s okay?”

“Mhm.” I closed my eyes, willing him to continue.

His soft fingers danced over my feathers like Cassian had done earlier and I shuddered.

“What does it feel like?” Tamlin asked curiously, not stopping his exploration.

“It’s like…” He brushed a particular spot, just under the curve, and I gasped. The sensation rocketed through me, right down past my stomach. “… _Oh_.”

Tamlin yanked his hand back, thinking he’d hurt me.

“No, it’s okay.” My body yelled at me for accidentally tightening it at the sensation. “You didn’t…that felt… _really_ good.”

“…Oh?” His voice was leaden with intrigue as he reached up to brush that spot again, but slower.

I tried to stay relaxed, only gripping the bedding between my fist but my back arched regardless. “ _Fuck_.” I couldn’t believe it. I honestly couldn’t. The way the softest touch rippled through every nerve ending inside me was…

“Tell me what it feels like,” Tamlin coaxed, now understanding that my tremors were not from pain but something else entirely.

“It…” I tried again, finding it tremendously difficult as he brushed over and around that spot with different pressures of his finger. “Feels like what you did to me last night.”

After kicking the High Lord of the Night Court out of the manor, my mate took it upon himself to return the favor I’d bestowed him that morning.

“Really?” I could hear the smile in his voice, dragging a finger along it. I was panting, squeezing my legs tight together as the touch drew me all too close to an unexpected end. All it took was one more delicate brush and I seized, a violent release shooting through me.

While I tried to catch my breath, still stunned that such a thing was even possible, Tamlin had grown hungry. His hands caressed and squeezed at my thighs as I recovered and trembled. I knew what he wanted and wasn’t sure I had it in me. I started by pulling all my focus to get rid of the wings, relieved to not have them hanging at my back which I was then able to lay on. The soreness from my day of training was still unbearable and I winced at the movement.

Tamlin climbed over me and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “You’re in a lot of pain.” It was half question, half statement. He knew I was, he was just checking to see if it was _too_ much pain.

I nodded, even noting how that sent pangs up my neck. “If you don’t mind me laying still and not participating, you’re welcome to have your way with me.”

Tamlin nuzzled against my neck, battling his options. He reached a hand down to press between my legs and I arched slightly into it, that being the extent of motion I would exhibit. “I never thought I’d be jealous of wings.” He laughed against my neck, pushing his palm into me and I let out a soft moan.

“I never thought they’d be so sensitive.” I closed my eyes, loving the pressure of his hand between my legs. If he kept going…

Ah, fuck it. I bit down the pain it caused to loosen his pants, diving a hand underneath to wrap around him. He was warm and so terribly hard. At my touch he hissed, digging his teeth into the sensitive part of my neck. I pumped him slowly until my arm could no longer handle the movement and he was undoubtably not far from reaching his peak.

“Undress me.” I said, knowing I didn’t have the energy. Tamlin obeyed, pulling my pants off in a swift motion. He positioned himself between my tired legs and took his time easing in even though I knew he wanted to go fast. The full feeling of him inside me was delicious enough that I could push past my crying muscles. Despite how he may have been close himself, he still brought his hand between us to finish me before he let himself go. He came in a series of quick, desperate thrusts, his moans muffled against my hair.

His body lazily draped over mine in a way that felt like a weighted blanket and we both fell asleep moments later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. you know exactly what you did, Cassian  
> 2\. wing-sex? i dunno, someone take me to jail.   
> 3\. if i ever see that bitch Amarantha in the street, call an ambulance but NOT FOR ME


	17. Shadows

I practically yelled as I stretched first thing in the morning. I was not crying in pain like I expected to be—I could thank the cauldron for that—but the soreness was most definitely present and barely tolerable.

“Tam,” I spoke lovingly into his bare shoulder. “What are you doing today?”

“Mm—meetings.”

“Cancel them.”

One of his eyes peeked open to peer at me.

“Cancel everything. Spend the day with me.” I stated, cuddling into his warmth.

The High Lord chuckled softly before bellowing, “LUCIEN!”

A few moments later the bedroom door slowly opened and red hair appeared. “You…called?”

“I’m taking the day off.”

Lucien raised a brow.

“I officially reinstate you as my Emissary. Please go to my meetings on my behalf.”

That was right, Lucien technically was still on ‘probation’ as it were. For all public matters he appeared as Tamlin’s Emissary, but between them it was understood that Tamlin wasn’t ready to accept him. At least, until now it seemed.

“…Alright. Anything else?”

Tamlin rested his head back on his arm. “If you’re waiting for an invitation, it’s not coming.”

Lucien’s russet eye rolled and he shut the door.

“Mm…all mine.” I nuzzled into his chest happily, already daydreaming of how we could spend the day together. “I want to go for a swim. And I want to hear you play the fiddle. Also I want to eat something delicious.”

Tamlin couldn’t withhold his grin, squeezing me against him tight. “As you wish.”

+

We laid in bed lazily for some time before finally getting up to enjoy the day. I put on one of my soft pink spring dresses, tying half my hair up with a silk bow. Tamlin dressed similarly casual, the vee of his white shirt dipping low to reveal the sun-kissed skin beneath. We passed Lucien in Tamlin’s study with a wave before heading out into the gardens.

It was a spring day like any other and yet I couldn’t help feel it was slightly more beautiful today. Perhaps it was the lack of responsibilities to attend to. Or the way the sky glowed so blue behind the fluffy clouds. How the sun was warm, but a breeze kept my skin cool. How droplets shone on the freshly watered bushes and plants.

I realized Tamlin had stopped walking, simply standing by the line of trees as he watched me.

_What is it?_ I asked down the vines.

_I think I’m ready._ He replied, eyes raking over my form.

“You think?” I laughed.

He shook his head. “I am. Show me.”

I gave him a few seconds to change his mind before I transformed.

The beast form was much easier to conjure than the wings. It felt like heaving a sigh, letting my body warp into the large animal. I wouldn’t say I preferred it to my new High Fae body, but something about it felt comfortable. Safe. I enjoyed the feeling of the cool dirt under my heavy paws. How muscle clung to me, ready to attack or bound at a moment’s notice. How agile I felt. Free.

Tamlin’s mouth was parted slightly. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn’t what he saw before him. While my wings were a beacon of spring and sunshine, my beast form was not. Perhaps this was the Night Court part of me, ironic as that was. My fur was sleek, black as night, and shone as if made from the stars themselves. I was menacing. Able to slink through darkness unnoticed and strike when unaware. I was not a dainty creature. I was a predator.

The High Lord approached me steadily, brushing a hand back over my forehead and between my ears. It was a pet. Tamlin was petting me. The sensation made me melt, pressing up into the sturdy hand. I then slipped my rough tongue out to lick his arm playfully and he chuckled, pulling back. In the blink of an eye the High Lord had transformed, meeting me in his animal form.

“Shall we?” He nodded to the forrest.

My heart swelled as he took off and I bounded after him.

+

We swam in a crystal clear lake, splashing, kissing, tangling our limbs beneath the surface. Then we wandered through the forrest for miles and somehow the exercise helped to loosen up my sore muscles. We climbed a steep hill, the view on top of it the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Such lush colors, all different shades of green and brown and yellow, with spots of lavender, orange, and pink where flowers grew. The lake we swam in glittered down below.

Home.

I couldn’t help the moisture that crept to my eyes as I sat beside my mate, taking it all in. I was so terribly lucky.

“I love you.” Tamlin whispered, watching me while I watched the Spring Court.

“I love you,” I echoed, letting him kiss me with gentle lips.

+

In the evening we ate a hearty meal and since Lucien wasn’t there—not that it often stopped him—Tamlin hoisted me up onto the dining room table where he buried himself inside me and I cried out as loud as I wanted, not caring one iota that we knocked over two goblets of wine.

We ended the night in the gallery where Tamlin finally revealed his musical prowess.

My jaw dropped to the floor as he played a piece that was so intricate, so technically difficult, I couldn’t believe my ears. It was as easy as breathing for him. I supposed that’s what hundreds of years of practice could accomplish.

“And what about you?” He set the fiddle down on his knee, pretending he hadn’t just done something terrifically impressive. “Do I get to hear a piece?”

I laughed loudly. “Oh, there’s no chance I’m playing after that.”

“I would have made you go first if I knew.” His eyes were soft and pleading. “Please?”

I couldn’t say no, of course. Not to that face. So I plucked up the courage to sit at the harp and find my finger placement. “I’m not good,” I said as a disclaimer.

“I don’t care.” Tamlin leaned forward, hair cascading over his shoulders as he waited patiently.

“And I only know one song. Not very well.”

“What’s it called?”

“Spring.” I said, not realizing it had a name until that moment. “It’s about you.”

He let out a quiet sigh, preparing himself.

Taking a deep breath, I began to play. As usual, I messed up a few notes, but it didn’t go as terribly as I’d anticipated. I didn’t ruin the major motifs, finding the melody practically playing itself. When the song was done, I turned to see Tamlin wiping away fresh tears.

“Tears of joy or repulsion?” I asked.

“I’m just…” He laughed. “I’m just glad I can spend eternity with you.”

And my heart broke. In the best way possible. I climbed into his lap, hugging him to my chest. My High Lord. My mate. My love.

+

My training resumed bright and early the next morning and continued for two weeks.

Once the abilities were stabilized within me they started to feel like second nature. It had me wondering how I wasn’t able to control them in the first place, it felt so natural.

My mind had become an impenetrable fortress as well as a deadly weapon. I could conjure the elements as I saw fit. I could shroud the land in darkness if I chose, make it do my bidding in any way I wanted. I could winnow successfully. I didn’t, but I could snap bones at a distance. I’d practiced on tree trunks, Rhysand beaming when I turned a large maple to pulp.

The siphon was a necessary tool, I discovered. Without it the power often did become unmanageable. Wide-spread. Often bleeding different abilities together in a way that was…counter-productive. So I kept the ring on, using it to weed through the mass of power and set forth only what was needed.

I’d made my first few flights. It wasn’t graceful, I tumbled through bushes and destroyed a few in the process. But I was slowly getting the hang of using the wind to my advantage, of what it was supposed to feel like to ascend and descend without inflicting physical damage.

The only area that was not making as much progress was my hand to hand combat.

It was like I was fighting myself instead of Cassian, the knife accidentally cutting my flesh as I jabbed at him.

“I don’t understand,” He parried. “You have all of this lethal power, you ripped a man’s head off, and yet you’re afraid of knives.”

“I’m not afraid of knives.” I lunged again, missing.

“You clearly are or you’d be able to hold it properly and hit me.”

I growled. “I just don’t see why this is entirely necessary. I can kill people. I have enough power to decimate this whole Court if I wanted.”

“Show off.” Cassian turned and I nearly fell, swiping through the air.

“But I just don’t see when I’m going to need to win a knife fight.”

“Power runs out. Siphons run dry. Then what do you have?”

“My cunning wit.”

“Okay, Rhysand.”

I managed to land a blow then, ripping the leather at his shoulder. He gave me a wild grin.

I sighed, pleased with the small victory. “How come Azriel never comes to train me?”

“Why, what’s wrong with me?”

I didn’t bother with a response to that.

“He’s been busy.” Cassian answered and I knew there was more beneath the surface of the statement.

“Busy with what?”

“Spymaster stuff.”

I couldn’t roll my eyes hard enough, giving up.

“Don’t lose your footwork,” He said.

I looked down, confused, because the footwork wasn’t the hard part. But in my moment of confusion he was able to dip around and knock me off balance. I tumbled on the grass with a grunt, wishing I was better at combat _only_ so I could hit him.

He wiped a lock of hair from his face with the back of his hand. “You lost focus.”

“You tricked me?”

“And an enemy wouldn’t do that?” Cassian held out a hand to help me up. Once I was back on my feet his face went pale, eyes staring far away to something I couldn’t see. Hearing a message I couldn’t hear.

He’d gone from playful combat trainer to General Commander of the Night Court’s armies in less than a second. The switch itself was frightening.

“Shit,” he breathed. “I have to go.”

“What’s going—” I asked, my question cut off as Mor suddenly appeared in the garden. She was distraught, her luscious blonde hair thrown up in haste, running towards Cassian.

Before I could do or say anything she’d grabbed his outstretched hand and they winnowed out of sight.

They’d left Elain.

I stared at the empty space where Cassian had stood, my mouth hanging open. Not good. This was not good. I knew immediately, the way Cassian received whatever message he got…it was very bad.

I ran inside to find Lucien and Elain sharing a couch in the sitting room, her head resting gently upon his shoulder. The sight was so sweet, so victorious, and yet I couldn’t celebrate for even a heartbeat.

“Something’s wrong.” I interrupted their delicate moment with my ragged breath.

“What is it?” Lucien straightened up immediately.

“Cassian got word of something, and then Mor showed up and winnowed them. It was bad news.”

Lucien stood. “They left?” _Without Elain?_

I nodded. “Where’s Tamlin?”

Elain remained on the couch as Lucien ran through the halls with me to the High Lord’s study where he was busy writing letters.

I explained what I saw and Tamlin only looked between me and his Emissary. “What do you want me to do about it? It’s Night Court business.”

“What if they’re in danger?”

Tamlin blinked.

“It’s my duty to help them.” I reminded him of the clever little bargain Rhysand and I had made.

“If they didn’t tell you to go with, it clearly isn’t that serious.”

He made a point. Yet the fear lingered within me. “What if they didn’t know it was serious until they arrived? Like when you and Rhysand showed up in Under The Mountain?”

“This is exactly why I didn’t want you to make that deal.”

“It’s too late, Tamlin.” I stared.

Lucien chimed in. “What if I go have a look. Check with whoever’s in Velaris and see what’s going on.”

Tamlin heaved an exasperated sigh. “If you must.”

“Go,” I turned to Lucien.

He winnowed and I left the room, not wanting to start an argument with my mate. I was still wearing the band of knives at my hips, deciding not to take them off. Not yet.

Hours went by before Lucien returned. The sun had already set and I could barely force down dinner over the anxiety.

He walked into the dining room shaking his head. “They’re all gone.”

My brows came together. “ _All_ of them?”

He nodded. “Amren probably isn’t with them, likely guarding the cauldron somewhere, but I couldn’t find her.”

I looked to Tamlin eating his soup, expecting him to find something wrong with that news. He didn’t seem fazed. Meanwhile an overwhelming sense of worry continued to seep through my bones. I couldn’t take another bite.

“There’s nothing we can do about it.” Tamlin said, at least attempting to sound like he cared. “We don’t know where they are. And they’re obviously planning to come back if they left Elain here.”

She stared down at her bowl of soup, eating it quietly as we spoke around her.

I raked a hand through my hair, running through my memories for any clues. Any hints one of them may have made during my training.

My search came up empty. I only deduced that there _was_ something. An enemy. Or a fight on the way. There was some reason that Rhysand wanted me trained. Ready.

Perhaps for this moment.

“I want to go check for myself,” I stood up.

Tamlin closed his eyes and Lucien frowned, “Eve, trust me. There was no sign of where they went. They up and left. I promise you.”

“Dammit!” I shouted, and a burst of power shot from me, blasting a dent into the adjacent wall. Tamlin and Lucien fell silent, Elain flinching.

I was huffing, feeling trapped all over again even though I technically wasn’t. I was trapped mentally. I had nothing to go off of other than my own sickly gut feeling that something was horribly wrong. That my friends were in danger.

I ended up pacing through the garden for two hours before Tamlin begged me to come to bed. I reluctantly did so, quietly on edge as I stared out the window at the full moon glowing down upon me.

Eventually, darkness brushed over my eyelids and pulled me down to sleep.

I awoke, but not physically. My eyes opened into a dream, vivid and real enough to touch.

I was merely made of shadow. I was transient, thinking and knowing, in all places I needed to be. Right now, the place I needed to be was not in my bed. No, the shadow was me and yet it also pulled me. Guided me far, far away. Over mountains, valleys, and water, a vast expanse that stretched on for miles and miles. Down through the trees and past a towering wall made of magic. It hissed and fizzled as I soared through it—nimble as the breeze—past a majestic castle made of dark stone.

There, acres beyond, lay a pyre in the woods. At it’s center was a twenty-feet tall obelisk that threatened to pinprick the moon, covered with carvings and inscriptions. At its base were heaps of wood, pretty and smooth white in color. Sprawled across the mounds of chopped wood were the faces I sought, bound together with glowing blue chains.

_There isn’t much time._ Azriel’s voice whispered against me, against the shadow.

_I’m coming_ , I answered and he sent me home, soaring back to my sleeping body with a magnetic thunk.


	18. Choice

I bolted awake in a cold sweat with my heart pounding a thousand times a second. I leapt from the bed, ripping off my night clothes as fast as my shaking hands would let me.

“Eve—what’s going on?” Tamlin squinted at me in the darkness as I yanked on a pair of pants.

“I know where they are.” My voice was hoarse. “They’re across the sea. There’s a castle and they’re…they’re going to be burned. I have to go.”

“What?” Tamlin rubbed his eyes, confused and irritable from having just woken up.

“There’s no time to explain! They’re trapped, Faebane chains—I have to go!” I was stuffing my feet into my boots as Tamlin rose from the bed.

“How do you know this?”

“I saw it. Azriel showed me.“

“Evelyn, calm down for a second. You’ve awoken from a nightmare.”

“It wasn’t a nightmare!” I shouted at him. “I don’t know what to say to make you believe me but you just have to trust me. I know where they are. And they’re going to die if I don’t go.”

The door swung open and Lucien stood in his pajamas, sleep keeping his eyes half shut. “What’s all the yelling?”

“I know where they are, Lucien. They’re trapped at some castle across the sea.”

He rubbed his russet eye. “The mortal Queen’s castle?”

“I don’t know.” I tightened the strap of knives around my hip. “They’re going to be burned alive over a pyre of ashwood.

The Emissary sobered up very suddenly.

“She’s just woken up from a _dream_ , Lucien.” Tamlin pleaded for an ounce of sanity and reasonability from the redhead.

“How do you know it wasn’t just a dream?” He looked to me, still horrified.

I wanted to scream. “Azriel’s shadows brought me there. I know it doesn't make sense, but just fucking trust me! If we get there and it’s empty, fine. It was all a bad dream and we can come right home. But we have to leave _now_.”

“What if it’s a trap?” Tamlin suggested. “What if you’re being tricked and someone is luring you out to finish what Elias started?”

I seethed, fire warming the palms of my hands as I spoke very clearly. “I am going. You can either stay here, or come with. Those are your options.” _Do not fight me on this_ , I threatened down the vines between us. Love him as I did, I would not hesitate to overpower him if he tried to stop me.

Tamlin caved, albeit enraged in his own right. He stalked to the wardrobe with a fierce rumble, throwing on his bandolier.

“I’ll tell the guards to watch Elain.” Lucien said, mostly to himself before he disappeared.

Within a few frantic minutes the three of us were standing in the foyer, geared up and ready for…whatever it was we were walking into.

“There was a magic wall surrounding the place. I’ll have to winnow us right outside to see how we can cross it.”

Elain stood at the top of the stairs, watching us with dread. “Please be safe.” She said softly, eyes fixed upon Lucien. He merely returned her sad gaze before grabbing my right hand, Tamlin grabbing my left.

I had not winnowed others before. There was no time to worry whether I could successfully or not, setting my intention for exactly where we needed to arrive.

+

The air was cold and biting, much different to the Spring Court. I was glad we’d donned jackets. The trees swayed up above, making the moonlight dance upon the forrest floor. I felt Tamlin’s glamor come up around us as soon as we landed and I stepped up to the wall. I was testing it, sensing the nature of it, when I realized it was merely there to keep out magic. To keep people from winnowing in. It could be walked through easily enough. So we did, stepping carefully to the other side.

Once within the boundary, I tried to winnow a couple feet away. To my surprise, it worked. I grasped Lucien and Tamlin, winnowing us to the pyre.

We were still glamored from sight, so they didn’t realize we had arrived. My chest heaved at the sight of them, bound and beaten senseless. Rhysand, Feyre, Cassian, Azriel, and Mor. Lucien’s suspicions had to be right, Amren must be back in the Night Court guarding the cauldron. They were sitting close, leaning on one another as best they could for warmth, eyes closed and heads drooped forward in either sleep or defeat.

“Fuck.” Lucien muttered under his breath.

Azriel was the first to awaken, his shadows whispering to him that I was there. His head rose and he stared at right where we stood, hidden from view. I ran to the edge of the pyre, beginning to climb up the wooden blocks towards them. I noticed instantly that there was something wrong about the air, the energy. I couldn’t place my finger on it but I sensed it came from the obelisk.

“Fuck, how do I break this?” I stared down at the thick blue chain that bound them all together.

Rhysand’s head turned towards the sound of my voice, eyes wide. He seemed to be unsure if he’d just hallucinated it or not.

“If you passed through the wall, you’ve sounded the alarm.” Azriel spoke with deadly calm beside me. “Stay under the glamor and don’t make any noise. Everyone keep your eyes shut. Pretend nothing is happening.”

Rhysand let his head roll back so he could stare outwards and the others suppressed their shock that we were there, feigning sleep. Tamlin and Lucien were waiting below, ready to attack anyone that approached.

I pulled out my sharpest dagger, attempting to saw at the chains, but it was of course futile.

Rhysand whispered, his mouth barely moving an inch. “Think of it as a very strong bone.”

I took a deep breath, focusing my power into it’s purest form. I first sent frost to the metal. Let it cool to the point that a sharp push on either side with my power cracked it. Then broke it entirely.

“Beautiful.” Rhysand’s voice was a hiss upon the wind.

That broke the main chain which looped through the cuffs at their wrists and confined them to the obelisk. As quietly as I could, I began feeding the chain through those loops, stepping over them and freeing them one by one.

“They’re coming,” Azriel spoke.

I quickly dragged the chain back over their laps so that it at least _looked_ like they hadn’t been freed. The Night Court laid absolutely still and I turned around, waiting.

Tamlin had transformed, crouched low in the grass. Lucien stood beside him some distance away. We stared at the swaying trees, waiting for something. Someone to appear.

I heard the arrow before I saw it. Spiraling through the air like a dart. It landed with a dull thunk, right in the middle of Cassian’s chest.

“NO!” Mor screamed, the most awful sound I had ever heard.

I immediately threw up a shield around the pyre, knowing Tamlin and Lucien would have put their own up as well, and yanked the chain off them. My heart was pounding so loud in my ears I couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. It was like rain and thunder in my skull.

“Lucien!” I called. “Winnow them out!”

He began to climb the pyre, heading straight for Cassian. I realized then that the sound of rain and thunder was not coming from within my head.

It was raining ash arrows. They bounced off the shield but I knew it wouldn’t hold for too long. Hundreds beat down upon it. Coming from where, I couldn’t even tell.

I didn’t see Tamlin anymore and my panic rose up higher still until I heard roaring and screaming within the trees. He was clearly hard at work taking down whoever fired at us.

Lucien had disappeared with Cassian and Mor, hopefully winnowing them to safety. The others still laid upon the wood, unable to rise to their feet. It was dark enough that I couldn’t see what their injuries were. I only noticed blood where it pooled upon the light wood below us. They were weak and powerless with the faebane cuffs still around their wrists.

And my power was draining like an unseen force fed on it, leeched it from me. It had to be the obelisk, made of something old and wicked. Every second that went by I grew weaker and so did the shield.

“I can’t hold it!” My voice was unrecognizable.

“You _must_.” Rhysand breathed.

I was about suggest that we make a run for it, but realized all too quickly that was not an option. Soldiers—human soldiers—were closing in slowly from the tree line. Without any power the Night Court wouldn’t make it a hundred yards. Not without me shielding them like an umbrella, which my own power would soon be unable to do. And then what? I was frantically looking around for Lucien, wondering why he was taking so long. Perhaps Cassian’s condition was too bad to leave him. But we were all going to be dead any second if he didn’t.

“Breath,” Feyre reminded me through a ragged gasp, eyes full of fear even as she tried to remain a point of stability. “Hold it strong.”

My hands were clenched into fists, nails drawing blood in my palms. If I loosened for even a second the shield would falter. I was struggling to maintain my grip on my own power. It was agonizing. Pained tears ran down my face as I fought to take in breath, the thunder of arrows continuing to pour upon and around us.

_Tamlin,_ I called down the vines. _I can’t hold this shield any longer. Hurry._

Out of the trees bounded the mighty beast, protected by his own shield. Arrows bounced off as he leaped up the pyre to us. He was bleeding from a large gash above his arm, but once he arrived and transformed I felt his shield fall into place and could finally loosen mine. I almost fell over dizzy from the drain it had taken on me. I looked down at the violet siphon upon my finger to see it dulled of color.

I had nothing left.

“Where is Lucien?” I was looking all around for any sign of the redhead.

Azriel answered, but not with his voice. He let his shadows speak to me instead, revealing a piece of information only for my ears. _He can’t get back in. They’ve put up a new wall._

I released a breath and time seemed to slow as I understood why Azriel told only me.

The soldiers had breached the tree line and were now closing in on us. The only power at our disposal was Tamlin’s. I was too depleted to winnow and he couldn’t take all of us. Nor could he fight all the soldiers off. It was simply impossible. A choice needed to be made.

The cauldron’s voice echoed dully in my ears. _You will hurt them. All of them. In ways you cannot yet imagine._

I realized the voice was right. This was not how I imagined I would hurt them.

“How many can you winnow?” I asked Tamlin.

“Probably two.” He eyed the oncoming soldiers with fire in his eyes, giving the answer I expected. His power must have been draining as well. The arrows had finally stopped, but they approached with drawn weapons.

_I’m staying._ Azriel’s shadow whispered to me.

I wanted to argue, but there was no point. “Take Rhys and Feyre. I’ve got Azriel.”

Tamlin grabbed the High Lord and Lady and hesitated, sensing something was wrong. Feyre didn’t understand. But the way Rhysand looked at me told me he did. He knew. His head shook but I glared.

It was the only way to save both Courts.

“Go!” I ordered and grasped Azriel’s outstretched hand as he rose to unsteady feet, using the final dregs of my power to conjure a glamor. It shot up and hid us from sight, making it look like we’d winnowed. Rhysand saw right through it, the pain inside him so thorough it broke him as he took one last glance at his brother.

Tamlin’s gaze pierced mine though he could not see it and I seared his beautiful features into my mind. I would cherish it till the end. My mate. My love.

Not a second later, Tamlin winnowed them away. With them, a piece of my heart went.

Together Azriel and I stared into the beady, blood-thirsty eyes that approached. The shadowsinger took two of the largest and sharpest blades from my belt, clutching them tight between his fists.

“I will fight for you as though you are my High Lady.”

I met his eyes with a solemn nod, pulling out my two favorite knives.


	19. Destruction

I did not wonder if Azriel and I would make it out alive.

I knew we wouldn’t.

My only thoughts came in the voice of Cassian, preparing me to lunge. To retreat. To dodge. To swing. To feign. To duck. To stay aware of my surroundings. To never lose my balance.

But while the soldiers surrounded us on every side with their weapons aimed, they did not swing or fire. They stared. Waited.

What they were waiting for finally made itself known, parting the sea of men.

 _Mortal Queen_ , Azriel’s shadow told me. _She was once young and beautiful, but after seeking eternal youth from the cauldron it granted her the opposite. She intends to destroy it and all Fae. All power. All evil, in her eyes._

My face drained of color as she approached; a wretched-looking thing. Her skin sagged and clung to her bones for dear life. Her black eyes were like bottomless pits, sinking into her skull. In her withered hands was a chain made of faebane.

When she reached the base of the pyre, she smiled. Several rotting teeth remained in her ugly mouth. “Bind them.” She ordered in a voice like sandpaper.

Three soldiers stepped up the wood to do so, but Azriel slaughtered them with quick swipes of his blade. The chain dropped to the ground with them.

“I said,” her voice raising in pitch like a squealing piglet. “Bind them!”

Azriel’s back pushed me into the obelisk as he readied to take on the army. Though there were knives in my hands, we both knew I wasn’t trained enough. Not for this.

Even injured and powerless as he was, Azriel took soldiers down left and right. Blood spurted in the wake of his blades. He would not give up. He intended to die taking as many soldiers with him as he possibly could.

But there were hundreds and we were soon overpowered. They grabbed his arms as he swung and his roars echoed through the trees. With him bound, I stood no chance. Glowing blue chains wrapped around my wrists, nullifying the power that was already emptied from me.

We were thrown down against the obelisk, the sharp edge of it ramming into my back.

The skin around the Queen’s black eyes crinkled further. “Don’t worry, they’ll be back for you. And if not, then I have no need for you.” Up in flames we would go. She laughed hysterically to herself. “Back to your stations.” The soldiers obeyed, disappearing into the trees.

Azriel’s shadows whispered, s _he plans to lift the wall to let them in at dawn. Once inside, we’ll all be trapped again._

It was a living nightmare. I couldn’t feel or hear Tamlin through the vines, perhaps because of the wall surrounding the place, but I knew he must have been going insane. Once he realized what I’d done…nothing would stop him from coming back to rescue me. He would be ready, waiting to enter at dawn. If the others were healed by then, I could only imagine they would come as well. Maybe they could rain down enough power to destroy the place. Something told me it wasn’t likely.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.” I said softly, hot tears welling at my eyes.

Azriel shook his head. “By saving my High Lord and Lady, you saved me. It wasn’t an easy choice.”

No. It wasn’t.

There were a handful of hours before dawn. I rested my head upon the spymaster’s shoulder and stared up at the moon, desperately hoping no one would come for us.

+

The sun had yet to rise, but the once-black sky had slowly turned into a murky blue.

Somehow, despite the insanity of where I was and what awaited me, my eyes had closed in the night and sleep took over me. I wondered if Azriel’s shadows had anything to do with it, something like a soothing blanket as they surrounded me.

I awoke to their whispers just before the sun appeared over the horizon somewhere beyond the trees. _He’s here._

I didn’t see anything surrounding us, my heart pounding painfully in my chest.

Then, I smelled him. My mate.

“Hold still,” Tamlin’s breath wafted gently over my chest and I almost sobbed from the relief and also terror that he had come. I couldn’t see what he was doing, but I felt cold metal slip against my wrists under the cuff made of faebane. The noise that sounded as it snapped was too loud. We all knew it. But Tamlin didn’t pause for a second, breaking the one on my other wrist in a quick _crack_ and then freeing Azriel.

Once the chains fell from me, I felt my power surge back through my veins in a familiar caress. As if it had been in a deep slumber like I was, recharging through the night. I wondered how long it would take for the obelisk to steal it from me again.

From the footsteps, Tamlin had come alone. “We can’t winnow,” he said quietly. “We’ll have to leave on foot.”

But Azriel’s magnificent wings had appeared, taking their first breath in days.

“Take her,” Tamlin said to the Illyrian. “The sky is safer. Follow the sunrise until you pass the wall. I’ll meet you there.”

Without hesitation, the shadowsinger scooped me up into his arms and we shot into the sky with a mighty beat of his wings. Down below I could not see Tamlin, but I assumed he was already bounding through the forrest.

The morning air was even colder than it had been when we arrived and I shivered as it whipped all around me. We were getting close to the wall, but it was quiet. And that unnerved me. They must have known someone passed through. Must have seen us leave. The silence down below was equal parts alarming and comforting.

Until it wasn’t.

I knew the sound. I knew it all too well. I’d heard it once before, when daggers were buried into my mate’s shoulders. That same wail of pain reverberated up through the trees and struck me like an arrow to the chest.

“Tam—“ I gasped. “Go to him. Now.”

But Azriel’s flight path didn’t waver. He was weighing the options, whether it was worth sacrificing our chance to escape. And he took too long.

I used my newly returned power to control his arms. To drop them until I began to fall, pummeling through the cold air. We were far enough away from the obelisk that it no longer drained me. My power was fresh, humming in my veins. And I was going to unleash all of it upon those that hurt my mate.

Golden wings sprung from my back before I hit the trees. I still wasn’t fully in control of them, but I managed to glide over the pines towards where I’d heard his cry. My sensitive ears picked up on voices and I followed them, swooping down into the trees where a few human soldiers stepped towards my mate.

He laid unmoving upon the forrest floor in his High Fae form with six ash arrows sicking out from his side and back.

Six.

I landed beside him, looking up to meet the nocked arrows closing in on us.

Rhysand had told me the intention needed for what I was about to do next. It had to be pure. Unadulterated. Not a hint of doubt or empathy.

The soldier’s had barely pulled back on their bows before I misted them.

The clouds of their blood floated for a poetic moment before dissipating with the wind. Azriel landed next to me in time to see their bows and arrows clamor to the ground.

There were more. I could hear and feel their footsteps. They scattered the forrest like pinecones littered the floor. They knew when we’d arrived earlier. They let us in. And they didn’t care that Azriel and I were freed. We were extras. Tamlin was a High Lord. He was who they hoped would come.

Six ash arrows.

The bleeding was profuse and I could feel from the weakened vines between us that he did not have much time. I knew only one thing for certain: they were going to pay.

“Azriel,” I said steadily. “Take Tamlin into the skies. As high as possible. Shield both of you.”

To his shadows I whispered what I intended to do. He did not question my order this time, carefully picking up the fallen High Lord and propelling them both up into the sky. I waited until they were barely visible before I pulled off the siphon ring and placed it carefully within my pocket.

Suddenly the cauldron’s words took on a new meaning in my head and a wicked smile drew back my lips. It gave me an unwieldy amount of power— _all_ of its power—for a reason, I realized. To protect itself, not me. The mortal Queen and her armies intended to destroy it. Somehow it knew. It gave me my power so that when I inevitably ended up at this very moment, I could use it as I wished. And what I wished for was destruction.

I threw my head back and dragged in a cold breath, letting it fill me up and center me.

Then, I erupted.

The amalgamation of power that exploded from me was so dense it could not choose a color or a form to take. It was darkness and light, frost and fire. It had one purpose only; to destroy.

It leveled the trees and all those standing among them. It turned the stone castle into dust. It cascaded over the hills and decimated every piece of life in its path.

I hurt them. All of them. In ways I could never have imagined.

I saw the magic wall break, a great pop of blue light in the distance. Once my destruction was complete, my power reigned back in, I replaced the siphon upon my hand and shot up into the sky with a powerful beat of my wings. I rose up higher and higher until my eyes found Azriel and my mate. The shadowsinger dove for me, meeting me in the air to touch his wing against mine before he winnowed us away.

+

We arrived not at the Spring Court as I expected, but the sitting room of Rhysand’s townhouse.

I tumbled into a nearby bookshelf, yelping as it hit my wings, not used to winnowing from midair. Azriel thankfully had a more graceful landing, placing Tamlin gently upon the plush rug before the fire.

I went to him, ready to rip the arrows out, when a voice stopped me.

“Don’t!” A woman I did not recognize scampered into the room. She knelt beside my mate and began waving her hands over the arrows with some sort of magic I had never seen. Deciding not to interfere, I merely caressed his arm.

Then the High Lord of the Night Court appeared. He was shirtless, chest wrapped heavily with bandages that were bleeding through. His expression fell at the sight of Tamlin sprawled unconscious before the hearth. “I told him to wait for us.”

The woman was making quick work of the arrows, gently coaxing them from Tamlin’s body.

My mind was blank, needing to know he was going to be okay.

“He’ll make it.” Rhysand said gently. “She’s the best healer alive.”

I met his violet eyes. “And Cassian?”

“Fine, he’s endured much worse.”

A lead weight lifted from the pit of my stomach.

Rhysand’s voice grew serious. “You know that’s not what I meant when I made that bargain with you. I asked you to fight for us. Not to sacrifice yourself.”

“I had no choice.”

“You did.” He sighed, “and I’m grateful. I just wanted you to know…that wasn’t what I meant.”

I gave him a solemn nod. “It’s over now.”

“Apparently it is. Azriel told me you blew up an entire quarter of the Continent.”

“Misting them just wasn’t good enough.”

Something sparkled in Rhysand’s eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Or warn me? Why keep me in the dark?”

“We were planning an attack, leading them on a wild goose chase over the cauldron, gathering information on their armies. It was going to be a clean and quiet elimination. We had the upper hand. I had everything under control.”

“Until you didn’t.”

“Until I didn’t.” He looked down at his hands. “We were in the process of learning what exactly that obelisk was being used for when Azriel was captured. One by one we followed, caught like flies in a spider’s web.”

“What was it? I felt it sucking away my power as soon as I got near it.”

“Exactly that. Where the cauldron gives life and magic, I believe the obelisk takes it away. It’s terribly ancient, presumably a gift bestowed to the mortal Queens should they need a weapon against us. I thought it merely a strange decoration piece before I got close to it.”

I was glad to have turned it into a pile of rubble.

A pained grunt came from Tamlin as he awoke and began to stir.

“Hold still!” The healer barked at him and he obeyed.

His blazing emerald eyes found mine and a thousand emotions raced through them. “Evelyn.”

I let out a pathetic whimper, pressing my temple against his. I held onto him, onto the parts that didn’t interfere with the healer’s work. When I pulled back he was frowning deeply.

“You tricked me into leaving you to die.”

My breath got caught in my throat. “I—I’m sorry.” The hurt and anger beneath his features was unbearable. I caressed his cheeks, wanting to will it away. “I’m so sorry, Tamlin.” I couldn’t tell him I made the wrong decision. I knew I didn’t. Perhaps he knew it too. But that didn’t mean it didn’t still hurt.

He closed his eyes against my hand, wincing as the healer placed a final bandage over his wounds. “There.” She said, pleased with her work, before getting up to leave us.

“You’ll never do that to me again.” Tamlin said definitively. “I don’t care what you think the greatest good is, you won’t ever sacrifice yourself like that again. Promise me.”

“I…you’re High Lords, Tamlin. Feyre is High Lady. I’m…” I struggled to find the right words. “I’m your mate, which is important, but the fate of your Courts and your people doesn’t depend on me.”

“It will.” Tamlin said, his gaze darting to Rhysand nearby. “Get out.”

“Of my own sitting room?” Rhysand raised an insulted brow.

“Yes. Leave.” Tamlin repeated, eyeing the High Lord until he was out of sight. He groaned as he moved to sit up, clutching the bandages at his side. “I didn’t want to do this here.“ He fished something out of his pocket. “…But I promised myself if we made it out alive, I wouldn’t waste a minute before asking.”

The ring was delicate, a golden band made of thin vines that intertwined around tiny glittering diamonds. At its center sat an oval emerald stone that twinkled in the firelight.

“Will you be my wife?” Tamlin asked softly, any anger he’d been harboring over my sacrifice now dissipated as he patiently awaited my response.

I suddenly lost the ability to breathe. My stare dragged from the ring to his eyes, the latter filled with such unwavering care and devotion it shook me to my core. I instantly fell in love with the ring for how it would remind me of him. For uncountable years to come.

“Yes.” I nodded, throwing my arms around him as fresh tears sprang to my eyes.

Tamlin held me, releasing a heavy sigh. “I love you. More than I’ve ever loved anything in this world.”

I laughed through a quiet sob, wishing to be even closer to him than I already was. “I love you,” I whispered to him over and over, holding on tight, letting thoughts of spring and sunshine fill my head. Wash away the horrors I’d endured not long ago.

When I was finally able to pull back and wipe my tears, Tamlin placed the gorgeous ring upon my finger. His lips tugged into a pleased smile. It fit right. It felt right.

“When did you get this?” I asked curiously, admiring how it sparkled.

“The morning after the party you threw,” he replied and my heart warmed.

An alarmingly loud bang went off in the kitchen and our heads jerked towards the sound. A few moments later the High Lord of the Night Court appeared with two glasses filled with champagne.

“It sounds like we have something to celebrate?”

I could tell Tamlin wanted to growl at him, but even High Lord Rhysand couldn’t ruin his happiness in that moment. He accepted the champagne flute and downed it, perhaps also in an effort to dull the pain at his side.


	20. Spring

When we arrived back at the Spring Court I let out a deep breath of relief to be within its walls. My hopes of returning to it had been shattered and reborn in such a short period of time it almost felt surreal. All I knew was that it looked, smelled, and tasted like home.

I stepped through the manor looking for Lucien, wondering why he didn’t come out to greet us. The answer became clear when I pushed open the sitting room door—which was rarely ever shut.

Elain laid upon the velvet couch, desperately grasping at the redhead holding himself above her as their lips and tongues met.

At the squeak of the door opening Lucien’s eyes flicked up at the sound. I could have sworn the russet one was more vibrant somehow. Redder. Almost…fiery.

Tamlin glanced over my shoulder at the pair. “Glad to see you weren’t too worried about us returning safely.”

Elain was breathless, flushed, and embarrassed.

Lucien had to clear his voice before speaking. “Rhysand sent word you were alright…”

But Tamlin was already heading up the stairs. I laughed before closing the door to give them their privacy.

The bed was unmade from when he’d leapt out of it. It brought back the conversation we had before heading across the sea and I found I needed to say something about it.  
  
Tamlin had already undressed, slipping into the bathtub. Steam wafted up around him as he rested his head back upon the lip of the tub.

“Healed enough?” I asked, sitting at the edge of it.

He nodded slightly. “There’s still damage beneath the skin, though. Probably will be for some days.”

The Night Court’s healer was incredible to say the least.

“So you want me to promise not to sacrifice myself like that again.”

Tamlin eyed me, weary of where the conversation was headed.

“If I’m to agree, I have terms of my own.”

“We’re making a bargain, now?” He asked with amusement.

“The next time something wild and strange comes out of my mouth, you’ll trust me.” He blinked, an echo of guilt crossing his features. “You won’t question it. You’ll give me the benefit of the doubt. I'm talking blind faith.”

The High Lord nodded. “Alright…and I’m sorry.”

“And,” I added. “I want a large wedding.”

This made him huff with laughter. “That’s not what I was expecting.”

“Do you agree?” I poked at his glistening shoulder.

“Yes,” Tamlin smiled.

“Then we have a deal.” I held up my arm to show him the evidence of said bargain. I conjured a bracelet of earthen vines to wrap around my wrist, complementing the glimmering ring upon my finger. Tamlin took my forearm to inspect the tattoo, his eyes growing lidded. He brought my wrist to his mouth, kissing it gently. Something about the way he never broke my stare, soft lips pressing into my skin, sent butterflies right to my stomach.

“There’s room for two,” he murmured.

An offer too good to resist.

+

I realized Tamlin didn’t know what I meant when I said a ‘large wedding.’ He thought I referred only to the Spring Court, squeezing as many of them as could fit in the garden.

When I suggested inviting the Night Court…well, one could imagine his reaction.

I managed to talk him into the idea eventually, after much huffing and puffing. After explaining that although there was a mountain of unsettled past between their Courts, we were allies at the end of the day. Friends, even. If we were in danger, they would come. And vice versa. That was friendship, regardless of how uncomfortable Rhysand and his inner circle made Tamlin. Made me, sometimes.

I suspected that the real reason he didn’t want them there was because of Feyre, but even that I managed to placate him somewhat. “It’s closure for both of you,” I’d said. “Perhaps the best you’ll ever get.”

He reluctantly agreed.

The event took months to plan and I happily spent all of my available time doing so. In those months Lucien and Tamlin had built up the Spring Court more than either of them anticipated they could. Elain had stayed, which was no surprise. She grew terribly fond of our garden and spent most of her time in it, planting new flowers and trees in her flowing sundresses.

I once found her crying beside a clump of blooming daffodils and upon approaching she explained that they were ‘just so beautiful’ and how she ‘felt like the soil wanted them to be there.’ I might have thought her crazy if I didn’t know exactly what she meant.

She was a little strange at times, blurting her premonitions at mealtimes and often staring off into space. But Lucien was madly smitten with her and I was truthfully just happy for him that she finally reciprocated.

Elain was rather soft-spoken usually, but when night fell and they retired to his room I discovered her to be quite the opposite. Lucien was right, the sound did carry.

“You’d think he was murdering her,” Tamlin commented one night.

I laughed loudly, throwing up a sound barrier to drown them out.

When Elain wasn’t busy gardening or…doing other things…she was happy to help me with wedding planning. Which proved to be rather useful, too, because whenever I was pulling my hair out trying to decide between colors, fabrics, designs, she often had a vision that told me exactly what I ended up choosing in the future. I suspected she might have been lying just to get me to make a decision, but I didn’t mind because it worked.

On the night before the wedding—after running around like a chicken with my head cut off for weeks trying to get everything prepared and finalized—I laid my head upon the High Lord’s chest in our comfortable bed.

“I remember the first night I slept here,” I mused. “I was so relieved. I felt so lucky to have run into someone kind enough to let me stay the night.” Tamlin brushed my hair with his fingers, the touch soothing. “And you were gorgeous. I secretly hoped you’d jump me in the middle of the night, you know.”

“I would never.”

“I know, you’re too much of a gentleman. But oh, how I wished.”

Tamlin chuckled. “I definitely thought about it.”

“And here we are.” I sighed.

“Here we are.”

“Tomorrow, I’ll no longer be some cauldron-made beast in your bed. I’ll be your _wife_.”

“Mhm,” Tamlin rolled me on top of him, bringing our faces close enough to touch. “I can’t wait.”

I brushed his nose with my own. “What will I be called, then? High Lady of the Spring Court?”

His lips parted while he thought of how best to answer. “It’s…High Lady isn’t _normally_ the title given. Feyre is the first High Lady.”

“Oh. What are wives normally called?”

“Just, Lady. Lady of the Spring Court.”

I contemplated. “What’s the difference?”

“I suppose much of the expectations and responsibilities are the same, but being High Lady implies that her rule and power over the Court matches that of the High Lord. They're equal.”

“So if I’m just Lady of the Spring Court…does that mean my opinions don’t matter? You can override me because you’re _High Lord_?” I emphasized the words in an almost mocking way. The question wasn’t pointed though, I was merely curious.

“I would always consult you and take your opinions into account.” He said honestly. “But…technically, yes. It would mean that.”

“Hmm,” I debated, sitting up as I straddled him. “What would you prefer me to be?”

His hands gripped my thighs, turning the question on me. “What do you want to be?”

“Queen of Prythian.” I looked off into the distance as though I saw my noble future.

“Ambitious,” Tamlin squeezed. “You know you’ll have to overtake the Night Court to make that happen.”

“And I bet it wouldn’t take much to convince you to help me.” I gave him a devious grin. “If I said I wanted to be High Lady…would you agree to it?”

Tamlin thought for a moment. A very long moment. There must have been centuries of customs, traditions, ways of doing things he was used to and expected for his life; for his partnership in marriage. In rebuilding his Court he already had to compromise a lot of those things. I wondered if this was the matter in which he’d put his foot down. I sensed he was about to.

“If it’s what you _truly_ want,” he finally spoke. “Yes.”

Only someone that knew him as well as I did would be able to see the resistance buried deep in his eyes. It wasn’t his first choice. But he would do it. He’d put down his pride and allow me to take a position at his side as an equal if I required it.

And that was all I needed to hear.

“It’s tempting, but I think I’ll stick with Lady of the Spring Court. I’d hate to have to go to all your boring meetings.” His lips turned up in a smile. “Besides, everyone knows I could overpower you if I wanted. I don’t need a title for that.”

“Is that so?” Tamlin growled as he flipped me onto my back, pinning me down with his muscular body. His teeth sank possessively at the base of my neck.

I groaned and let him tease me for some time, let him believe he’d subdued me.

Then it was my turn to have some fun.

Using my own power I flipped him onto his back. I grinned wickedly, holding his body down without using an ounce of my physical strength.

He struggled against it before quickly giving up. “Alright, you’ve made your point.”

“Not yet, I haven’t.”

I rose to stand at the foot of the bed and peel off my night clothes layer by layer. I watched him grow harder beneath his pants, already aching for me. Heat pooled in my core at the sight.

I crawled back onto the bed and over him, placing a kiss to his lips. As I did so, I brushed my hand between his legs and he let out a rough moan. He strained against the power holding him down, needing more friction, but I wasn’t ready to give it to him.

I took my time undressing him, teasing his warm skin with my lips and teeth. I spent more time than necessary reveling in the muscles at his torso, hands gliding gently over his sides where the ash arrow wounds had healed. I brought myself lower and lower, pleased at the way Tamlin’s breathing became uneven, my tongue exploring everywhere except where he wanted it. “Evelyn,” the word came out laced with a snarl.

“Yes, High Lord?” I spoke sweetly, my breath dancing over his arousal.

“If you want me to beg, I’m not above it.”

I smirked. “Go on, then.”

“Please.” His skin was flushed, muscles taught from pushing against the power restraining him. “Put your mouth on me. _I beg you_.”

His words were sweet music to my ears and I obliged. I took the full length of him deep into my mouth, lips tightening dangerously as I brought him in and out. Tamlin’s cry of relief only fueled the playful fire inside me and I stopped soon after, going to place delicate kisses to his inner thigh.

He looked down at me with a mixture of passion and rage. “You’re trying to kill me.”

I chuckled. “Is it such a bad way to die?” I dragged my tongue up the base of him and watched as he threw his head back from the touch. “Perhaps I’ll do this all night.”

Tamlin released a harsh curse word, arching his back as much as I’d allow, while I took him back into my mouth in slow dips. “I will be paying you back.”

I paused with my fist wrapped around him, twisting gently up and down. “Tell me about that.”

Tamlin opened his mouth to speak but no sound came, my movements bringing him close to the edge.

So I stopped.

The High Lord roared. “I am going to tie you down. With Faebane chains if I have to.”

I snickered, lapping up the moisture that leaked from him. “And then?”

“Then I’m going to tease you like you’re doing to me. Lick you until you’re a senseless mess. Begging, pleading to have me inside you.”

“And will you oblige?” I swirled my tongue around him.

“Yes—” his neck strained, eyes rolling back at the slightest touch. “Eventually. Oh—fuck, Evelyn, _please_.”

I supposed he earned it. I finally gave him the touch he wanted, watching the pleasure ripple through him in great waves. Warm liquid shot down the back of my throat and I couldn’t help take pride in the violence with which it did so.

Only then did I release my power over him. The High Lord was still shaking when he grabbed me, hoisting me up until I sat with my thighs on either side of his head. His tongue began to work against me in tantalizing strokes. It was not the payback he promised, no, that would come another day. But it was sweet ecstasy nonetheless.

Tamlin had become an expert in my body, knowing exactly what I needed when I needed it. My hands were braced upon the headboard as I tried to keep my hips still. It was difficult, my back arching with each clever movement of his mouth against me. It took almost no time at all for me to climax, digging a hand into his soft hair as I jerked and shuddered through it.

We laid in the aftermath as a tangle of limbs, drifting peacefully to sleep with just enough hours before dawn.

+

Emerald, gold, and blush. It seemed like the obvious choice of colors, even though I’d needed one of Elain’s ‘visions’ to convince me so.

Elain was first to walk down the veranda steps towards the collection of seated guests. She dropped fresh rose petals as she went, a shy smile trained on the redhead standing beside my husband-to-be.

I stood at the base of the stairs, waiting for the swell in music to signal it was my turn to walk. I looked down at my dress one last time to make sure nothing was amiss. Made of gorgeous blush-colored silk, large folds swooped across my chest and bared my shoulders. It cinched at the waist in a flattering manner before cascading like water down to my feet. I wore a golden necklace in the shape of flattened leaves that reached up around my neck. Juleen expertly applied my soft makeup, curling my hair and pulling half of it up with diamond-studded pins. It was a dream come true.

Not just the dress. All of it.

The swell in violins reached my ears and I took a steadying breath before turning to walk to the veranda. When I reached the top of the steps everyone stood. The entire garden was in bloom—particularly the roses I’d burnt to a crisp those months ago. They dazzled in the afternoon sun in pale shades of red and lavender. Countless faces stared at me, some curious as to who the High Lord of the Spring Court had chosen to marry, others merely pleased at my arrival. Off to the right I spotted the Night Court. Rhysand, Feyre, Cassian, Azriel, Mor, Amren, and Nesta. I debated not inviting the latter but Elain gave me the dirtiest look when I suggested it. They grinned, Cassian giving me a playful wink.

But none of those faces mattered as much as the one awaiting me under a giant archway of blooming bougainvillea.

Tamlin’s hair was carefully braided out of his face, his stature tall and dignified in an emerald suit with golden trimmings. He looked at me with such awe it was as if he’d never seen me before. I noticed a sigh release at his chest before he gave me a content smile.

My footsteps over the scattered rose petals led me straight to him, happily taking his outstretched hand beside the alter.

The ceremony proceeded without any hiccups, declaring us as husband and wife, High Lord and Lady, mated for eternity. Everyone cheered as we kissed, Tamlin taking liberties as he lifted me up into his arms and spun me around. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him so happy. It was threatening to make me cry, but I was _not_ going to be ruining my makeup. At least not yet.

After the ceremony it was time to eat. There were numerous tables scattered around a large wooden dance floor where people took a seat and food was served. Tamlin, Lucien, Elain, and I sat at our own table. We were just digging into the appetizers and drinks when people started to approach with gifts and warm wishes. Between sips of champagne I was introduced to the High Lords of Summer, Winter, Dawn, and Day. They were all grateful that we’d extended the invite, offering luxurious gifts.

Once enough food and drink had been ingested, I leaned to whisper to Tamlin. “I’m going to go say 'hi' to our friends.”

He nodded in approval, happy to stay and finish his plate of braised meat.

“Congratulations, Lady of the Spring Court.” Rhysand grinned as I approached. “I have to admit, this wedding seems to be going _much_ better than the last—“

Feyre shot him a glare so lethal it stopped him mid-sentence.

I rolled my eyes. “Guess I owe Lucien money now. I wagered it would take you three glasses of wine before you bought it up. He said it’d be the first thing out of your mouth.”

Cassian and Mor were holding in their laughter so hard I thought one of them was about to spit wine all over the table. The only one that didn’t hold it in, outright sniggering, was Amren.

“Anyway, I’m glad you all came.” I said sincerely.

“Thank you for inviting us.” Feyre said and I could see in her eyes that it meant a lot to her. To see Tamlin’s wedding play out the way it should have. The way it was supposed to. With someone that wanted to marry him. I patted myself on the shoulder for not letting Tamlin convince me to not invite her.

“Of course.” I smiled, acknowledging what neither of us had to say, what we both knew.

Mor elbowed Cassian in the ribs.

“We got you something,” he suddenly remembered, reaching under the table to pull out a navy blue box. “From the Night Court.”

I took it with a look of hesitation, untying the ribbon. My jaw fell open as I pulled off the lid.

It was a necklace and undeniably breathtaking to behold. I could see the endless night sky glimmering within dark opals set against black gold. It made me feel…for lack of a better word, spoiled. I wondered which one of them picked it out for me. Something told me it was Rhysand, until I heard Azriel’s shadows correct me. _I did_ , they whispered. _It reminded me of you. Of your power and courage._

I felt tears threaten my eyelids once again and had to blink up at the sky to hold them at bay. “It's absolutely gorgeous. Thank you.” I wished I could hug all of them at once.

The polite background music began to pick up in speed and energy, luring people to the wooden floor.

“I’m ready to dance.” Mor announced, raising from her seat. I watched her beeline around the table towards me, not unlike the first time we’d met in the House of Wind. “Let’s go,” her arm hooked around mine, pulling me to the dance floor before I could protest. She then grabbed the box from me and placed it in front of Tamlin with a wink, before taking my hands to start spinning me around. I laughed, equal parts surprised and embarrassed. Mor beamed, having the time of her life.

Feyre and Rhysand soon joined in, followed by Lucien and Elain. Tamlin watched us from the table, seemingly content to remain seated, but I’d use my power to drag him to the dance floor if I had to. I beckoned him with a finger and he reluctantly set down his napkin and came over to join us. The other members of the Night Court followed, along with High Lord Tarquin, Helion, and a handful of Fae from the Spring Court. The music was playful and joyous, fitting the moment perfectly. I saw some eyes at tables watching us with surprise. It clearly was not every day that the different Courts celebrated together like this; sharing a dance floor, sharing smiles.

We danced for hours under the night sky. We danced until my feet ached, relieved when the music finally started to wind down to something more slow and romantic. I laced my hands behind Tamlin’s neck and he held me close, swaying us to the rhythm.

“Are you happy?” He asked and I pulled back to give him a silly grin.

“Tremendously. You?”

The High Lord nodded, his eyes reflecting the stars. “It was perfect. Everything about it.”

“It really was.” I looked over his shoulder at the other couples slow-dancing in their own worlds. Most of the guests had left, save for a few handfuls who wanted the evening to go on as long as we did. “I can think of only one more thing I’d like to do tonight.”

“Hm?” Tamlin questioned.

I stood on my tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “We should probably make you an heir, shouldn’t we?”

The High Lord had a terrible time suppressing his shock at my suggestion. I laughed, drunk off the wine, the music, the company, the moment. It was all I could have ever hoped for when I’d wandered into the forrest seeking refuge.

Little did I know I was looking for this moment. This man. This place.

I was looking for Spring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING, COMMENTING, KUDO-ING, EVERYTHING.  
> Nothing brings me more joy than reading your comments and hearing your thoughts. I was super self-conscious about posting this story, but your feedback and support has made it SO worth it.  
> Lastly, I make music based off the ACOTAR series, have a listen here: https://ffm.to/arcanadark  
> Love you all. <3


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